The Island
by Theslowboxer
Summary: An AU take on the purge movies set on Vancouver Island. The Island is crumbling. With the announcement of "The Isolation" Vancouver Island is cut off from the rest of Canada. Permanently designated as an anarchist penal colony, anyone still on the island after the beginning of the purge is abandoned there. A small group of soldiers find themselves equipped to help. So they do
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One The Beginning **

**Authors Note: This is the first story I've ever written or uploaded so please be kind. It takes the premise of the movie The Purge and puts it on a larger (and smaller) scale in Canada as opposed to the United States. **

In hindsight they should have known. More importantly HE should have known. He should have known that it wasn't just grandstanding by the government and over sensationalizing in the media. They were serious this time. When Harper was voted out many thought that this would finally bring change to their nation. they couldn't have been more right. The newly elected party hadn't been around very long. they gained popularity with the more radical members of society until finally through grand gestures and pretty speeches they won themselves a majority government. Immediately after election they put forth a plan to drop crime within the country while simultaneously removing the strain from the prison systems. The plan was this, designate an area of the country as lawless. Meaning there would be no police, no military, no ambulances, no fire crews and especially no government involvement. It would be anarchy in its truest form. An option would be given to prisoners holding a life sentence, stay in jail, or live out the rest of our life in relative freedom away from society. The prime location was discussed, an island would be ideal to prevent escape because once you entered the island you were not allowed out. Several candidates were discussed Prince Edward Island was dismissed as being too small and it would quarantine an entire province. Baffin island was a big contender due to its remoteness and size but it was also dismissed because of how barren and cold a large portion of it was. Finally after much backroom debate in secret conferences Vancouver island was finally picked as an ideal candidate. Notices would be issued that residents had a month to vacate or be considered refugees on the island stripped of their citizenship and basic rights as Canadians. Some heeded the warnings, many, too many did not.

On the night of December 3rd 2014, Master Corporal Jack Hawkins was pissed to put it lightly. It was rather annoying how often he seemed to be put into situations like this 26 years old with an IQ of 215 and secretly worth over 1.5 billion he had missed the last bus. He rode the bus out of a personal choice having decided at the age of 19 he didn't exactly like people knowing how much he was worth, with this in mind he created a second identity. During most of the week he was known as Jonathan Hawkins Genius billionaire, founder and CEO of TAC-6 Industries, a multinational tech company that designed and built computer and armour technologies for the worlds militaries. However he also liked to live as Jack Hawkins a master corporal in the Canadian Armed Forces Primary reserve. Out of 32 Service Battalion in Victoria BC he was just now returning from a field exercise and was tired and exhausted.

"Figures I miss the fucking bus" he said in disgust. It was the middle of the night beside the highway and he had jogged the last kilometre from his unit with a rucksack on just to watch it pull away its tail lights shining through the dark rainy night almost mockingly.

"_Might as well just call my driver" _ thinking to himself that this was his only real option left he pulled out his phone and was about to make the call when he heard footsteps behind him.

"Shit! Was that the last bus?"

"Fuck" Jack muttered under his breath. He knew if he called Dawson now to come and pick him up his cover would be blown. Having someone to come and pick you up in a Rolls Royce doesn't exactly scream 'I just had a friend in the area'.

He knew the voice though it belonged to Cpl Jessica Dunley a clerk who worked in the orderly room.

"Damn it now what am I supposed to do? That was the only way I had to get home and I am NOT carrying this fucking ruck all the way to Langford!"

Jack couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of that. Jess was tiny, barely even five foot four the rucksack looked like you could fit her in it and still have room for a spare pair of boots. He felt like an asshole knowing all he had to do was make one phone call and he could have her there by a god damn helicopter if he so chose. However he had spent years of his life cultivating this second identity and he wasn't about to throw it all away because some cute clerk was giving him the damsel in distress routine. She _was_ cute though short and compact yet still gave the impression she could march your ass into the ground just to prove a point. Long straight brown hair pulled into a proper military bun that poked out behind her beret. Even in combats which weren't exactly flattering to begin with she looked good. Too bad that she was happily married for three years to Sgt Chris Dunley in the Canadian Scottish Infantry Regiment or else he might have pursued her.

"Why don't you just call Chris?"

"The C Scotts were doing their own ex and he's rear party. He doesn't get back till tomorrow"

"Well Shit looks like were stuck here. Unless you know someone you can call?" He said this almost hopefully.

"Not at 11:30 PM I don't, what are we gonna do?"

Thinking Jack realized there was really only one thing he could do with out giving himself away "I don't know about you but I see a decent stand of trees over there" Pointing to a small wooded area off behind them "Decent spread between trees, elevated and enough cover that we shouldn't get noticed by the Cops until at least tomorrow morning"

"Wait your going to hooch it?" She was referring to the term used for setting up a half shelter with the tarp and cord in each of their rucksacks.

"Unless you have a better plan my dear short friend?"

"Ok first, fuck you I'm 5'4" not 4'5" and second ... no not really" she said looking down and shuffling her foot back and forth. Seriously she couldn't get any cuter if she tried.

Sighing Jack shouldered his pack and adjusted his beret as it got jostled as he put on the 60lb rucksack "Well, onwards and upwards I guess" Jack said starting for the small stand of trees.

What looked like just a small stand of trees at first was quickly revealed to be the edge of a small undeveloped forest of BC pines and firs they moved a small way in and dropped their rucks "this looks like a good enough spot Jack said as he pulled a small battery lantern from the top pouch of his pack. It was a slightly elevated hill between two towering trees that would keep the ground relatively dry when the rains inevitably started falling in earnest that night. Turning on the lantern they started the business of setting up their shelter zipping together their ground sheets into one larger shelter. Using bungee cord and stakes from their packs they had a small A frame set up in less than five minutes. Next came the business of getting their sleeping bags out from the bottom of their rucks as well as the waterproof gortex bag or "Bivvy bag" putting it together Jack unstrapped his foam sleeping mat he'd bought from the side of his rucksack and slipped it into the bag under the sleeping bag. With his bedroll set up he looked over at Dunley and had to suppress a laugh. She had her sleeping bag set up but was struggling to finish blowing air into the "self inflating" army air mattress. Looking up at Jack she scowled and said "say one fucking word and ill shove that fancy Therma rest up your ass"

"What? I figured Chris would have insisted you get one. I thought all the infantry had them."

"Yeah he has one but seeing as I'm a clerk and most of them time we go into the field we're in mod tent with cots I figured I'd just use the money for rent."

Shaking his head and trying not to chuckle he started packing up their extra gear to keep it dry. There wasn't really anything wrong with the air mattresses they could just be a pain in the ass and they never stayed inflated. He took off his beret folded it up and placed it in his leg pocket and began to strip down to his boxers and t shirt. Placing his clothing into his bivvy bag to stay dry he climbed in and got comfy. While every effort was often made Privacy wasn't always possible within the military when it came to female members. He figured he'd get in first and give her the opportunity to get undressed and into bed. He heard her lift up her side of the shelter and climb in placing her uniform inside the bag and get comfy. once she was in she scooted closer to his back to stay warm and they both grew still.

"I turned your light off and put it back in your ruck"

"Thanks Jess"

"Night Jack"

"Night Jess"

Settling in closer together for comfort and warmth they were both asleep within minutes.

They didn't hear the siren go off five minutes later.

They were both awoken the next morning rather suddenly by the sound of a large crash.

"What the hell was that?" Jess muttered groggily. Jack had a suspicion but he wasn't sure it could have actually happened.

"Stay here and stay quiet until I call you out" he whispered to her as he quickly pulled on his pants and boots "I'm going to go and check it out but be ready to run" with that cryptic message he rolled out.

The sun hadn't truly risen above the horizon yet and the light rainfall coming from the overcast sky gave everything a slight grey cast to it. As his eyes adjusted to the light he spotted the source of the noise. A small car had wrapped itself around a tree and its occupants were stumbling their way up the hill, its _armed_ occupants. As Jack looked he noticed how giggly and uncoordinated they were and saw the bottle of expensive looking tequila in the hands of one of them. They were a rough looking bunch, the man in front was wearing work boots, dirty jeans and under denim jacket, a thin grey thermal shirt favoured by outdoor workers in the nearby town of Sooke. The blood covering his hands and the front of his shirt plus the machete in his hand and the .45 tucked into his waistband kind of ruined the hard working citizen look. The rest of them, four in total were wearing some variation of blue collar work dress and sporting a variety of weapons. Only two others had guns one a nub nosed revolver and another, a hunting rifle. The other two used a bloody baseball bat and an axe respectively. They were too busy stumbling around and yelling to each other to have noticed him but that wouldn't last for long. Putting some distance between himself and the shelter he started walking towards the drunks. He was pretty confidant that he knew what had happened during the night but he needed to be sure before he did anything to hurt these men. He was pretty confidant of his odds as part of his regular workout routine involved mainly boxing with bits and pieces of various other martial arts thrown in to keep his mind entertained. While normally taking on five armed men would have been an insanely stupid idea with their intoxication and his speed both mental and physical he figured the risks were downgraded to just really stupid.

Finally it seemed the leader had noticed him standing there as he looked up and pointed his machete at him. "Well, well, well, gentleman what's this? I mean we were going to go all the way to Langford for our next batch of fun but I suppose we could have an appetizer" The round of drunken laughter that followed was grating but it reassured Jack that they were overconfident not caring if he was military or not, to them he was just prey.

"Bout time this new government did something right. No cops, no laws just chaos and endless fun" clearly this guy was crazy. Jack would have guessed he had voted for this government if he could believe the guy had ever voted in his life. Either way he had all the confirmation he needed.

Narrowing his eyes the leader pointed his machete again and ordered him closer. Keeping his hands up in apparent surrender he walked forward until he was within arms reach.

"Down on your knees fucker" the drunken maniac whispered. When Jack refused he saw the anger grow in the mans eyes and therefore was somewhat prepared for the punch to the gut that followed. As Jack doubled over only partially faking it, one of the other men had finally taken notice of their shelter and more unfortunately the number of packs lined up outside it.

"Hey Paul! looks like there's two of them!"

That clinched it in his mind, looking up Jack saw that the leader who's name was apparently Paul was looking over at the shelter and not at him. Seeing this as his moment he sprang up from his crouched position where he had been pretending to nurse his stomach and shot out a hard right cross straight to the mans trachea. Continuing with his momentum he followed up with a knee to the abdomen and planted his foot on the backside of Paul's knees forcing him to a kneeling position. Quickly he moved behind him and wrapped his right arm under Paul's chin until he grabbed onto his shoulder and his left arm caught his chin in the crook of his elbow and pulled his arms apart as hard as he could. Paul's neck snapped with a sound like a dry branch breaking. The entire exchange lasted three and a half seconds. Jack reached down to the now dead body's waistband and pulled the .45 free. Hoping against hope that it was loaded he raised the weapon at the man who now had his revolver pointed at him and snapped off a shot blowing a hole through him that left an exit wound the size of a grapefruit. The next immediate threat was the one who had discovered their shelter who was in the process of chambering a round into the shouldered hunting rifle. Jack's shot caught him above the eye and blew a quarter of his head off. By this time the other two men had started to rush him. Sidestepping axe man's running swing he kicked him in the abdomen and shot him in the back of the head as he stumbled past which left bat man. Ducking under the mans wild swing Jack lunged forward, wrapped his arm around the mans neck placed the gun against his chest and pulled the trigger three times. The shots were muffled by his body.

Jack took a moment now to breathe and really realize what he had just done. Yesterday he had never before killed a man and today he had killed five in less than a minute. checking the magazine he saw he had one round left plus one in the chamber. Tucking the weapon into the back of his pants he turned around just in time for-

"Holy SHIT!" Jess, he had almost forgotten she was there. She was looking at the scene of carnage in a mix of disgust, fascination, and fear. "What the fuck did you _do_ to them?"

"I killed them" Jack stated still not entirely able to come to terms with what had just happened.

"No shit Sherlock I was watching since you rolled out of the tent. What the fuck was that? You just flowed, one second you were there, the next you were shooting somebody in the back of the head like it was nothing!"

"I-It wasn't nothing believe me and really? How many times have you seen me practising this Wednesday nights? The fact that I can do that surprises you?"

"Seeing you practise, and watching you calmly execute five people is entirely different."

"Listen we don't have time for this" As confused as Jack was about what he had just done he knew there were more important things to worry about. "As I'm sure you've figured out, The Purge was real, and we need to get the hell out of here. I have a place up island were I can guarantee we will be safe there but first were going to need a few things. Weapons and vehicles for one."

"Well what do you suggest then?" Jess asked impatiently with her arms crossed. It was kind of hard to take her annoyance seriously when she was standing there in her underwear, t-shirt and combat boots.

"Pack up and get dressed we're heading back to the armouries"

They had their camp packed up and were fully dressed and ready to go in roughly ten minutes. Jack traded out his beret for his boonie cap to aid in blending in to the woods they would be trekking through. In order to stay off the roads and out of sight they had to turn a fifteen minute walk down the street into a 45 minute ruck march through dense woods with the aid of a compass and map of the area.

Tugging his boonie hat lower over his eyes to keep the rain out he tucked the map and compass back into his pocket stepped off on what he had a sneaking suspicion would be one hell of a ride.

**AN: And there it is! The first story ever written by me, your man Boxer! Please let me know what you think but be kind I beg you my ego is fragile enough as it is. I'm sure there are many mistakes throughout cause hey! I don't have an editor but I'll get there. We'll see when my next update is. I can't give a definitive date yet but hopefully not like months away. Anyhoo... see ya! - TheSlowBoxer**


	2. Chapter 2: The Armouries

**Chapter 2: The Armouries**

**AN: So, I'm back with a proper length chapter this time. There's a few reasons why this took so long to update. Chief among them is temporary loss of interest and lack of access to a computer. But whatever Enjoy!**

"One hell of a ride my ass" were Jack's first thoughts upon reaching the road. What he had thought would be a quick hike through the woods to reach the Company armouries had turned into a two-hour slugfest of dense brush and towering trees in a way that only west coast forests could provide, ducking for cover at the slightest sound. They had neither the ammo or the numbers to deal with every threat they came across so mostly they ducked behind a tree or bush and waited for who ever it was to pass by. There had been plenty of such instances though. Gunshots and screaming were most common. He had to steel himself not to intervene every time though. They just couldn't spare the ammo. The only time he broke that rule was when he saw a father and a son who couldn't have been any older than six being attacked by a man in a business suit. The father had a shotgun but he couldn't figure out how to take the safety off and the man in the business suit had a pocket knife that he used to stab at the man's midsection. He missed wildly and firmly planted the blade in his bicep instead before turning toward the son. A well placed shot from Jack's captured hunting rifle ended the fight and brought their total ammo count down to six rounds, including that of the 1911 tucked into his waistband and Jess' snub nosed revolver. He considered going out and helping the other man but he held himself back when he noticed that the suburban, white collar father had finally figured out the safety catch on the shotgun, and was looking around wildly. He faded back into the bush without another thought of help.

And so they continued on, ducking groups of people whether they looked to be hunting or just trying to stay alive. Outright running away in the case of a couple of people on dirt bikes with a collection of baseball bats and wood axes. After what seemed like the tensest two hours of their lives, the two of them sat in a ditch on the edge of the forest not a hundred metres away from their destination, watching a woman about to be raped in the middle of the street.

The woman looked to be of east Indian descent and was screaming as two men held her down while a third had cut off her shirt and bra with a large bloodstained hunting knife and was currently working on her pants.

"Jack…" Jess urged quietly from behind him. He ignored her. "Jack I swear to God if you don't do something to help her I will." She said as she hefted the .38 seeming to ignore the fact that it only had one round.

"I will help her I just need a plan" he whispered harshly.

"What's to plan?" she demanded "Just shoot the fuckers and stop them!"

Sighing in resignation he lifted the hunting rifle and fired, it went off with a loud crack as it caught the man with the knife in the shoulder flipping him off the hysterical woman. Working the bolt quickly he chambered another round, fired and caught the second man in the chest. He fell to ground with a spray of blood out of his back. His third shot however went wild and without thought he tossed the now empty rifle aside, drew the .45 out of his waistband and fired twice hitting the man once in the chest and once in the throat blowing out the back of his neck.

He was about to toss the empty pistol aside but thought better of it, instead hitting the slide release allowing it to come forward with a loud _shlick _noise, and tucked it back into his waistband. He had always wanted a 1911.

As he turned to check on the sobbing woman he was surprised by Jess yelling "Jack watch out!" which was followed by a blinding pain in his left shoulder. Whirling around he saw the first man bleeding freely from his shoulder holding the freshly stained knife in his other hand attempting to shove it into his stomach.

_That mother fucker stabbed me in the back! _were his thoughts as he reacted by stepping aside grabbing the wrist holding the knife and with his other hand the elbow above it, and rotating his shoulders until the arm in his grasp bent the wrong way with a satisfying snap. Stepping back, he delivered a hard kick to the mans head snapping his head back and knocking him out cold. As he looked around he assessed his work. Two dead, one royally fucked up, and two empty guns. Not to mention a sobbing woman and a knife wound in his back which was beginning to throb again now that the adrenaline was wearing off. He turned to see Jess who was now running towards him carrying their packs.

"He stabbed me in the fucking back!" He yelled half disbelievingly. He recognized the beginning stages of shock but shrugged it off for the time being.

"Let me see" Jess said as she came up to him and dropped their bags.

"It's fine" he said moving away from her "I can still move my arm"

"Jack, you stubborn ass of a man, let me see it or I swear to fucking God I will finish the job myself!" She said planting her fists on her hips. _Was that something women had to learn? _ He wondered, _Or are they born with the knowledge_. Either way he couldn't help it, he giggled. She looked adorable. _Yep definitely going into shock_ he thought.

She gave him a concerned look and checked the wound, telling him that he would be fine. It hadn't made it past the bone.

"Alright now check on her" he said nodding toward the woman who now lay on the ground sobbing. She was a mess he decided. Her clothes were shredded, she was bruised and scraped, and her makeup was a smeared mess across her face but at least she was alive. He started digging into his pack for a spare shirt to give her to replace the one that had been cut.

"She'll be alright" Jess said coming back over to him. "She wasn't hurt too badly beyond some minor bruises and cuts and they never got past her pants."

"Good" Jack said standing up, fresh T-shirt in hand, "Let's get her dressed, get her up, and get moving."

"We're bringing her with us?" Jess asked surprise written across her face. "Not that I disagree, it just seems surprising given your general attitude this morning."

"Its not that I didn't want to help those people!" Jack was getting angry now "We just couldn't afford to! It was too dangerous! I refuse to leave this woman now that there is something that we can do"

"If I might interject…"

Both Jack and Jess whirled in surprise at the unexpected voice of the other woman. She stood there quite calmly all things considered, one arm crossed over her chest in a mostly successful attempt to preserve her modesty. Mostly because she was, well… stacked was the first word that popped into Jack's mind.

"I do not know who either of you are and you do not know me, yet that did not stop you from intervening on my behalf. For that you have my gratitude whatever it is worth to you." She spoke in a clear high class English accent. Suddenly she blushed and held her unoccupied hand out towards the forgotten shirt in Jack's hand. "If you don't mind I would assume that shirt is meant for me?" She gave a meaningful look between Jack and the shirt.

Starting, he sheepishly held the shirt out to the topless woman embarrassed that her suddenly talking had caused him to completely forget the shirt.

"My name is Dr. Tricia Mehta, the man who's elbow you just dislocated after shooting him is– was my husband Aadesh Mehta." She said this while turning her back and pulling the olive drab shirt over her head. It hung off of her. Jack was several sizes larger than her. After donning the borrowed garment, she turned around and calmly kicked her dying husband between the legs as hard as she could. He barely groaned at the impact.

Jack couldn't believe how well this woman was holding it all together. He was barely managing to keep himself from panicking and yet this woman was cool and collected even after the ordeal she had nearly suffered. Upon closer inspection however he saw that she was trembling. Clearly barely holding on.

"Well I think we've spent long enough in one place." Jack announced, shouldering his pack. "We're almost there and its time to get a move on. Doctor, if you're coming let's go."

"Of course" was her only reply.

The three of them then made their way up the street towards the large building that housed three separate units including his home unit of 32 Service Battalion. He hoped it was empty. His entire plan revolved around not having to fight his way inside. If there were already hostile people occupying the building they'd have to come up with a new plan very, VERY fast.

As they approached the front steps he had to hold back a groan. The front doors were closed but the glass had been smashed out. Clearly someone had been here before them. Approaching slowly, he tried not to let his boots crunch on the glass. The two others were holding back while he checked everything out. Almost too late he saw a hand holding a Beretta whip around the corner and squeeze off a shot. The hand he noticed with near relief was attached to an arm wearing CADPAT. He dropped to the ground as the round snapped over head where he had been standing no more than a second ago. Scrambling on all fours, he got back around the corner outside the building. The girls had taken cover behind a concrete planter at the sound of the shot.

"Fuck Off!" yelled a familiar voice from inside. "You're not getting in here"

"Andrew?!" Jack yelled back, he was sure it was him.

"Jack?!" he yelled back.

"Yeah man what the fuck!" Jack was pissed, rightfully so. The fucker tried to kill him without even looking at what he was shooting at.

"You alright man? I didn't get you did I?" despite the conversational tone they had adopted neither one was breaking from cover.

"Nah you're still a terrible shot" Hopefully a joke would loosen the tension in the air.

"Fuck you asshole" was the reply. It seemed less tense. Now or never.

"Look man I'm gonna come out now okay? Don't fucking shoot me" He waited for the reply. It was a long time coming.

"Slowly dude, It's pretty crazy out there." He left it at that. He didn't need to say anymore. Jack and Jess had been lucky. They started out from a pretty isolated location and managed to avoid people for the main trip there. If Andrew had come from home, he would have had to come through the city. Undoubtedly he had seen some fucked up things.

Slowly, so slowly Jack stood up and stepped around the corner. He kept his hands in plain view. Not up precisely, but visible enough to keep him from getting himself accidentally shot. The 1911 was fully visible in its resting place in the front of his pants. He wasn't trying to hide it. He wanted the other man to know that he was armed and had no intentions of drawing. Not that it would do any good, the gun was empty.

"You alone?" Andrew was nervous but seemed to be calming down thankfully.

"No I have two others behind cover waiting for me to say it's safe to come in. You?" Jack was hoping there were others in the building, it would make the trip up island a lot safer. Then again a full platoon might not be enough to get them where they were going safely. He could comfortably house that many.

"Me and three others. Joe, Mark, and Tawny" He had holstered the beretta so it seemed safe to approach.

"Mind if we come in? I'd like to get us off the street" That was most definitely the truth. Jack hated being so exposed. Especially with ducklings in tow.

At Andrews indication Jack signalled to Jess and Tricia to come out from behind the planter. The four of them moved deeper into the building. The lights were out so while not completely dark there was a significant gloom about the place. It fit with the circumstances. Telling the others to wait near the entrance hallway Jack headed off toward his gear locker. He needed to feel in charge again. It was both a problem and a blessing of his. He always needed to be in control of any given situation. While it often caused his personal relationships to suffer, his drive for perfection were what caused him to excel in both his designs and in the general running of his company. Reaching his locker, he opened the lock and was thankful his paranoia had actually worked in his favour for once. Inside were two separate sets of kit. One was the standard Canadian Forces issue CADPAT Tac vest and helmet, but hanging next to it was a one of his brainchilds that launched his company into its first ten million dollars. It was based off of the USMC plate carrier though underneath the Coyote brown MOLLE and cordura nylon was a set of overlapping plates made out of an advanced lightweight ceramic polymer. It had full neck to stomach coverage and weighed slightly less than the current CF Frag vest. If you stripped it down to nothing but the plates it would look like some kind of medieval fantasy armour. Where it outshone the competition was that it was slightly cheaper, and would stop a 7.62 round fired from an AK-47 in its tracks. Shrugging into the vest he clipped his American style MICH helmet to the front of his vest and strapped on his thigh holster. Luckily the SERPA holster had been designed for the CF's Browning Hi-Power and would fit a 1911 easily. Looking himself over he admitted that he looked like a gear whore, those people that buy all the tacti-cool gear to make it look like they were in a modern warfare video game but fuck it. It will keep him alive. The last thing was to grab his sling and Arabic style Shemagh scarf to keep the vest from chafing and he was set. Slamming the locker closed, he walked back over towards the three who were still waiting for him by the entrance.

"Hey Drew, you got any .45 ACP?" Jack would need ammo for the 1911. He was definitely keeping it.

"No but I think Solomine does"

Andrew MacTavish and Mark Solomine were the unit's weapons enthusiasts. Both of them being weapons techs like Jack himself if any one was going to have a certain type of ammunition among them it would be those two.

"Cool I'll ask him. Do me a favour go get everyone, bring them here. I have something to run by you guys." Jack saw the confused look Andrew gave him but he went anyway and that was the important thing. Three minutes later the Andrew was back with three others. Jack looked them over. Drew was about 6'2" with tanned skin, dark hair, and brown eyes. Mark was the opposite standing closer to Jacks 5'9" with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. Joe Ramirez suited his heritage by standing shorter at 5'6" with dark chocolate brown eyes and dark almost black hair. His permanently tanned complexion spoke to his being born in El Salvador. The last of them was Craig Tawny who was 6'0" 280lbs of pure muscle. The man was a bear. A supply tech who spent most of his free time in the gym. Jack swore he saw him pick up a car once. Admittedly it was the back end away from the engine but still it was damn impressive. As they all gathered in he mentally prepared himself for what he was about to reveal to them.

"Okay now that your all here I have something important to tell you." Jack could tell that while curious they were still wary. Nerves were frayed right now, and everyone was one loud noise away from full fight or flight freak-outs.

"You all know me as Jack Hawkins. Master Corporal from Ontario that you never hear from outside of the military. That's because the rest of the week my name is Jonathan Hawkings, CEO of TAC-6 Industries." That got their attention. He could see their reactions varying from disbelief, to shock, to outright anger at being lied to. "I kept this from you because I enjoyed having a life where nobody knew I was privately worth well over a billion dollars. However right now it's actually working in our favour. I have a house, well more like a compound, up-island with security that actually more than crosses then line into illegal. As long as you're inside the walls I can guarantee your safety. Are you interested?"

Their reactions were as expected. Lots of yelling, lots of questions, but after about twenty minutes he had each of them not only believing him but agreeing to go along with him.

"Ok well before anything else we have to be able to get there. What have you guys gotten done so far?"

Not much apparently. Andrew was the first to get there with the others arriving not long after. They had spent their time trying to find the keys for the weapon and ammo vaults. Four separate keys in total, none of them kept in the same place. Two of them Jack knew fro a fact weren't even in the building. These men should know that. It was a sign of the panic that had everyone that he had to point it out to them.

"Listen we need to get this out of the way now. If were going to do this, I'm in charge. Its my house, my supply lines, my gear. I want no arguments. If you can agree to that your welcome to come. Otherwise I'll see that your armed before we leave but that's it. You'll be on your own. Is everyone cool with that?" Jack let out a breath when he saw the nods around the circle including the women. He had been counting on everyone accepting. He wasn't sure he would get there without them.

"Good, alright let's get started. Drew head to maintenance and get the acetylene torch, we're cutting the doors open. Joe get me keys to two MILCOTS. Whichever ones you can get backed into maintenance the fastest. Don't go outside yet though. Craig take Jess and the Doctor to supply and get them to help you. I want radios for everyone here. Get the 521's. I also want a box or two of rations. Then head to the medic supply lines and help the doctor load up a ready bag of whatever medical supplies she needs to get us there in one piece. Mark I need a box or two of .45 ACP if you can spare it, then your going to help me and Drew get into the vaults." Jack paused for a second after issuing his rapid fire orders. After making sure everyone was following him so far he continued. "Before all that I want everyone kitted up in full battle rattle. If you don't have armour break into lockers until you find some. Then get whatever kit you need to maintenance." With that he sent everyone off to their assigned tasks. He himself went to find a sledgehammer. One of the perks to being insanely rich with very high ranking contacts meant that he could get favours done that were a little, unusual if he was willing to spend the money. One of those favours was sitting behind a false wall in the ammo vault. Technically secured and procured through the military supply lines, it was paid for by himself and not the military.

He found what he was looking for in the back of one of the recovery trucks. A 10lb sledge would be enough to punch through the drywall between Jack and what he was looking for.

"Here, I could only spare one box but I had a couple of extra mags if you need one." Mark sounded a little out of breath as he came up to him. He must have run.

"Thanks" Jack said, accepting the .45 caliber rounds from the blonde man. "Let's get down to the vaults, Drew should be firing up the torch by now." They walked side by side down the hallway with Mark only sparing a questioning glance at the hammer over Jacks shoulder.

When they reached the T junction in the hallway they saw Drew already working at the hinges on the vault door. He had cut through one already and was working on the second by the time they walked up next to him. Jack set down the hammer and began reloading the magazine on the 1911. As he loaded each round he spared a thought towards the fucked up situation they were in. Who abandons an entire Island to anarchy. What kind of fucked up politician thought that it was a good idea. He knew he was avoiding the truth but he didn't care. The truth was that the blame didn't lie on the government alone. Sure they had presented it but it was up to the people to police their government. The people had to care enough to pay attention and speak up. Only the people could keep this kind of thing from being allowed to happen.

After sliding the last round into his second mag he slid the refreshed magazine into the 1911 and with a satisfying sound chambered a round. He then put the weapon on safe and re-holstered it. Drew was just now finishing with the second hinge and was moving on to the next door that contained the Military Police weapons. That was the vault that Jack was waiting for. But for now he grabbed a pair of bolt cutters that Drew had brought out with the cutting torch and set to work on the padlocks holding the weapons in their racks. By the time he had everything opened Andrew had finished with the second door and was moving on to the Ammo vault. Jack grabbed a C9 light machine gun and brought it out and set it down next to Andrew. "Once we get the ammo I want you to take this and head back to the front door. You keep out anybody hostile who tries to come in. Remember your trigger discipline. Don't shoot unless you have to." With that Jack walked over to the MP vault and ripped the door down off of its melted hinges. It fell to the ground with a loud crash. Walking in he set to work on the Weapon locks. The MP's used different weapons than the other units in the armouries. Where the Service Battalion used C7's the Canadian improvement on the American M16, C9's which were again a variation of the SAW used by the Americans, the Browning Hi-Power, and the Carl Gustav recoilless rifle, The MPs used Remmington 870 shotguns, C9's, Sig Sauer P-225's, and C8's. Where the C7 was an improvement on the M16, the C8 was an improvement on the M4 Carbine. This last one was the weapon that Jack was after. He had a C7 assigned to him in the Service Battalion vault but he much preferred the lighter weight and EOTech Holographic sight on the C8. Pulling one off the rack he grabbed a bolt from a nearby locker that he had previously cut open. Cracking open the weapon he dropped the bolt in and reassembled it. Before he even realized it he was preforming a function test by habit. With that completed he attached it to the black single point sling already wrapped around him and let the rifle hang at his side. He walked out just in time to see the door on the ammo vault fall open. Walking into the open vault he cut the lock off of the ammo locker to find his fears confirmed. On any given day they had plenty of blank ammunition in the locker but no live rounds. Whenever they went to the range an order would be placed to the Rocky Point ammo depot and they would pick it up the day before. As such there was three cans of blank rounds and absolutely no live ammo.

"Fuck!" Drew yelled. "What the hell are we supposed to do now? Point our guns and yell budget cuts every time we pull the trigger?"

Jack calmly stood up and walked back out into the hallway. He had prepared for this a long time ago by having some modifications made when they renovated the vault. It had cost him nearly a hundred grand to get the people involved to look the other way while he altered the contractor's instructions but it was now obvious that it had been worth it. He grabbed the Sledgehammer that he had leaned up against the wall and walked back inside. Sliding the useless ammo locker out of the way, he ignored Andrews startled yells and swung the hammer as hard as he could against the drywall. Mark ran in to see what the noise was as he pulled the hammer free and swung again. Over and over he smashed the drywall until there was a sizable hole near the floor of the vault. Tossing the hammer aside, he knelt down, pulled a flashlight from his vest and peered through the drywall dust into the hole inside the wall. Seeing the large black Pelican Box inside he grabbed the handle and heaved it out. Reaching back inside he pulled out a second.

Popping open the tabs he revealed enough ammunition to supply a small uprising. It was a soldier's wet dream, 5.56 ball for the C7s and C8s, 5.56 link for the C9s, 00 Buck for the shotguns, 9mm Parabellum for the handguns, even frag grenades and 86mm shells for the Carl G. Turning to the other two he said "Andrew grab two C9 boxes and head out to the door. Mark, see if Craig and the women are done and get them here to help you start balming mags. I want everyone to have a full combat load of ten. Balm it all. I don't want any left in the boxes." With that said he went to go and see how Joe was doing with his assignment.

He found him down the adjoining hall in the supply office putting down the crowbar he used to pry open the transport key press. "You picked the trucks yet?" Jack asked as he walked in.

"Got em boss, just needed to get the keys." Joe said over his shoulder as he searched through the key press for the right CFR numbers.

"Alright, grab them and head over to the vault and get yourself a weapon and ammo." With that said Jack headed back over to the vault. As he got there he saw Craig and the other two frantically loading magazines alongside Mark. As each empty mag was filled it was placed in a growing stack next to the pile of empty magazines.

"Where's the kit?" Jack asked as he walked up and starting grabbing from the stack of full magazines.

"Piled in maintenance, I also grabbed a couple of Recce tents just in case." The Nordic giant replied without looking up from his work. He and Tricia were using the mag chargers in each ammo can to load each 5.56 mag ten rounds at a time while Jess was hand balming the pistol mags one round at a time.

"Your radio is over there." Craig continued gesturing to a nearby weapon rack where an AN/PRC-521 radio was sitting with a headset attached. "Everyone except for you has one now"

Looking around Jack realized he was right. Everyone had one of the headsets strapped on while the worked. Even the doctor had one with the radio stuffed into the front pocket of the pullover hoodie she had found. Jack took the radio and slid it into the pouch on his vest made specifically for that purpose. Clipping the talk button to his vest to keep it from bouncing around he put the headset on and keyed the mic. "This is Jack, radio check" One by one every one keyed in that they heard him loud and clear, even though most of them were standing next to him loading magazines. After loading up his vest with ten magazines he grabbed another one and fitted it into his rifle, slapping the bottom to make sure it was fitted correctly. Grabbing the cocking handle he racked the weapon with the distinctive _shlick shlock _noise he had grown to love. Putting the weapon on safe more out of habit than anything he grabbed Joe who had finished loading up on his own ammo, and together they headed towards the maintenance bay and the back compound. They stopped when they reached the bay door. Silently they started gearing up to go back outside. Jack pulled on his gloves, hard knuckle Oakleys that he had grown fond of. Okay he was willing to admit if only to himself that he was a bit of a gear whore, but what was the point of having money if you couldn't spend it. After that he wrapped the scarf around his head concealing his face and saw Joe doing much the same with his own scarf. He had to remove the radio headset in order to properly get it on but once it was he replaced the headset and put on his helmet. Securing it down snug, he pulled the cover off the tinted ballistic goggles attached to the top of the helmet, Oakleys again, and pulled them down over his face. With their features now completely obscured from head to toe, they went over their plan. It only took them a couple of minutes to work something out, and with that in mind they got set. With a nod from Jack Joe began pulling the chain to crank the bay door open moving as quickly as he could. When it was open enough to get a truck through, Joe sprinted out heading for the closest truck that he had keys for. Jack scanned the fence line hoping against hope that he didn't see anything. Not with Ramirez out exposed like that.

Luckily no one showed themselves and Joe was able to get in the truck and quickly back it inside. Slamming the bay door closed, they reversed positions and got ready to go on the next door. Jack starting pulling the door chain as fast as he could and sprinted out for the truck. Only to have what felt like a lead baseball bat hit him in the chest. He realized he was flat on his back on the ground at the same time he became aware of the gunfire around him. Scrambling for cover, he slammed his body behind the engine block of the nearest truck. Peeking around the side he saw three people in the process of hopping the fence while another shot at them through a gap in the privacy screen. Squeezing off two quick shots, he keyed his mic and yelled "Contact! Contact rear compound! Get the weapons into the back of the truck, we are NOT leaving them for these people!"

After that he focused on the fight. The first three had managed to take cover and were shooting towards Jack and Ramirez who had taken cover behind the wall of the maintenance bay. Luckily only the first one was any good of a shot and he was busy climbing the fence. A carefully aimed shot took him out of the equation and he hung from the fence limply. The other three continued pouring fire on them. While inaccurate there was enough of it incoming that eventually something would hit. It occurred to him that there was too much fire to be coming from three people. Apparently they had gotten their hands on C7's and ammo. Bay Street Armouries must have fallen. After about five minute of trading fire eventually the last of them were taken care of. Climbing up to his feet he called the all clear into the radio. Getting into the truck he was after he was thankful that it hadn't taken any fire other than a bullet hole in the door. Both him and Ramirez were also unhurt other than the round he took to the vest. When they got back in and shut the door with both trucks inside, Jack saw that everyone except for drew was there and was currently loading the first trucks with the weapons from the vault as fast as they could.

"This the last of them?" Jack asked the group

"Yeah this is the last load." Jess responded. She seemed to be holding it together fairly well despite the rush and panic they were now under.

"Jack… you're gonna want to see this." This from Drew over the radio. He sounded worried. Which of course made Jack worried.

"Im on my way."

Jack rushed out to Andrews position and got down next to him.

"We've got company though I don't think they know were here. Probably drawn by the sound of the firefight but they don't know where it was." Andrew was referring to the sizable crowd gathered on the road about 50 metres down from the armouries.

Suddenly two figures were pushed out from the middle of the crowd. It was the father and son from earlier.

"Oh no…" Jack muttered under his breath. "No no no no no" Andrew was lining up a shot and cocking he C9.

"No" Jack put his hand on Drews shoulder. "We can't. We're not ready and there's too many of them even for this gun." God he wanted to though, so much. The father was missing his shotgun and his shirt was torn and cut and covered in blood. His face was a solid mass of blood and bruises. His son wasn't much better.

"Fuck that they're gonna kill em" He flipped the safety off.

"Stop. I understand, believe me I do but if you do that now we are all dead. Every one of us. We can't intervene, not against that many." The crowd was easily in the hundreds and they had separated the father and son forcing the father onto his knees, the son they held apart from him. He was just out of arms reach if they hadn't had his arms secured behind his back. The boy, that cute, sweet little six year old boy with a mass of curly blonde hair on his head. That boy died in front of his father as his throat was slowly cut.

Jack swore that it didn't matter if he lived to be a hundred, he would never again hear pain the likes of which came out that little boys father. Jack knew he would take that sound to his grave.

After a minute of letting the father scream the man who killed the son calmly pulled out a handgun and shot him in the head.

Tears were streaming down Jacks face and he knew the same was coming from Andrew's, he could feel the man sobbing next to him.

"Jack we're ready to go" Came the voice over the radio. Jack stood up and Andrew stood with him. Neither man spoke until Jack keyed his mike and in a dead flat voice, keyed his radio and said "Acknowledged, everybody grab a C9 and grenades. We have work to do."

With that the two of them headed back to the trucks. When they arrived Jack haltingly told them what happened and watched as their faces grew first horrified and then stonier with every word. He gave them their orders on how the crowd up front would be dealt with and they loaded up, everyone holding a loaded C9 as ordered and almost eager to use it except for the doctor. She held a Shotgun and tried to stay as low as possible.

As the two trucks pulled out Jack had them stop in the middle of the road facing away from the crowd. People were just starting to turn as he hand Andrew each stepped out with their C9s slung, and a grenade in each hand. They took three paces toward the crowd, put their hands together, and with each hand pulled the pin of the grenade in the opposite. With a calm almost synchronized toss, they threw the grenades underhanded into the middle of the crowd and turned back to the trucks. With four loud _whumps_ muted by the crowd of people around them. The grenades sent sprays of blood and body parts flying into the air as Jack and Andrew turned around and slowly walk back until they reached the trucks. At which point they turned and leveled their guns. As one all six of them opened up with their belt felt, gas operated, open breech, 5.56mm death machines.

It was a fucking slaughter.

The street became a meat grinder. You hear about "the pink mist" in video games but you never understand until you actually see it. It literally looked like a cloud of pink fog hung over the street as they all died ten, twenty at a time. When they were done, nobody spoke a word. They just got in their trucks and drove away. The street was covered in meat. That was all that was left of the crowd of killers. Meat and bits of bone.

From overhead the crows wheeled and fell.

**Well! That got dark didn't it? Anyway I'm coming off a Night shift writing this so my mind can't really come up with anything deep and insightful to say about the story so I'm not going to try. Have a good one and I'll try to post more frequently from now on. - Boxer**


	3. Chapter 3 On the Road

**A/N: Yay new chapter! This one was really hard to right for some reason. I don't know why. It just seemed to drag on. Anyway it's my longest yet at over 8200 words! Enjoy!**

**Chapter 3: On the Road**

The next five minutes were spent in silence. Nobody wanted to try and speak about what they had all just witnessed. Jack knew that it would stick with him for the rest of his life. While he and Drew had avenged them, that little boy's blonde curls were there every time he closed his eyes. He still felt the slight tingle in his shoulder from the recoil of the C9 now stowed back in the bed of the truck. What had surprised him the most was when he looked next to him on the gun line he saw Jess standing there looking determined enough to walk through a concrete wall without stopping. They had all taken part in the massacre even if it felt more like justice to Jack.

A voice in his headset broke him out of his reverie. It was Tawny, driving the lead truck ahead of them.

"Ok Jack, where to?" He could hear the weariness in the big mans voice. Today was taking a toll on everybody

"Just get on the highway to Nanaimo. Once we get closer to the city I'll give you more directions from there. "

His compound was located just outside the city on the top of a small mountain. Really it was more of a large hill with a great view of the city and harbour. But what concerned him was that to get to it from the highway they would have to drive through some well populated areas. Not downtown exactly, but dense enough to have some tight turns and choke points that would make a great ambush for anybody of a mind to. These trucks were not armoured past the stock steel used for the doors and would have a hard time stopping a .22 let alone anything else people might have. He hoped he would be able to get everyone through this alive.

Looking around inside the vehicle he took stock of his people. There was Jess, badass little Jess with her hair a mess sticking out of her bun and hanging in her face. Her helmet looked comically large dwarfing her head. She had the barrel of her rifle resting against the inside of her knee as it pointed at the floor in the backseat. Jack knew he wasn't supposed to notice the tears silently streaming down her face. To her left was Mark with his C9 casually pointed out the window. Technically Canadians weren't supposed to shoot out of the windows. If they were attacked they were to either get the fuck out of there, or dismount and engage. Jack had told them that they were not to get out of the trucks unless absolutely necessary. They were to suppress whoever was shooting at them as they drove away.

He couldn't help but shake his head as he looked up at the truck in front of them. Military-Commercial-Off-The-Shelf or MilCOTS, were the general term for the sad excuse of a military vehicle they were in. The Light Utility Vehicle Wheeled, or LUVW was a 2003 Chevy Silverado painted green with a few alterations made. It was a pickup truck with a cap on the back that was never designed for combat. As such it had absolutely no capability for armour or mounting weapons. Other than the paint job, brush guard, bed modifications and mounts for a radio it was literally a civilian pickup truck. Its nickname was the Chevy Milverado. For what it was designed for, it was actually a decent truck. For combat, it was a piece of shit. This is what had Jack so worried. If they took any kind of fire those rounds would punch right through and into them.

Looking ahead at the next truck he wondered how the doctor would do if they got into any heavy fighting. For that matter he wondered how any of them would do. The most combat any of them had seen was what happened today. Decent enough trial by fire he supposed but he got the feeling this was going to be a really long day.

Craig was driving the lead truck with Drew riding shotgun with his C9 out the window opposite of Marks. Trish was behind the both of them. Driving as far apart as they were if one of the trucks was blown up by some kind of improvised explosive device or IED there was enough distance and time to react accordingly. They would either stop or try and help the occupants, or get out of there as fast as possible.

Jack knew he was only thinking about these things to avoid noticing what was happening outside the vehicles. It seemed like every second building they passed was either had its windows smashed or was on fire. People were running any way they could. Most were covered in blood. He tried not to look down side alleys as they passed. He had no interest in making himself feel guilty over the rapes and murders he could do nothing about. He couldn't save everybody. He learned that lesson the hard way. He quickly supressed a flash of blonde curls and an agonized scream and scanned around. Not many people seemed to have guns thankfully. Knives, axes, and baseball bats were no threat to them.

Other people weren't so lucky however. The streets, even this far from downtown seemed to run with blood. He couldn't understand it. These were people that only yesterday, had lived completely normal lives. They had never killed anybody, they were just getting up and going to work. Maybe it's the freedom they suddenly found. They weren't just paying bills until they died anymore. They had a future other than societal norms. Thing was they felt that they had to fight and kill for it. Humanity when boiled down to it is violent.

Let's think about it this way, there are two kinds of people. The first when dropped off in the wilderness with predators all around and plenty of game to be had is going to revert to the flight instinct. They are going to run and scavenge for food wherever they can find it. The second kind however when they see the threats and other weaker animals is going to go the other way. While the first person is running as fast as they can from danger, the second is making a weapon.

That's what was happening here. In the space of a day humanity had devolved from an advanced reasoning society with laws and science, to prehistoric hunter-gatherers with the weapons and technology of modern human civilisation. Half of the people seemed to be running with no particular destination in mind and the other half was doing their best to kill the first. Panic and chaos was the order of the day with nobody caring what happened to the person next to them.

It was killing him, seeing all this going on and knowing that there was nothing they could do to help. Victoria's population was tearing itself apart and they all had a front row seat through the truck windows. Within five minutes Jess wasn't the only one in tears.

Of course they weren't exactly safe themselves. The MilCOTS had a few extra dents along its body as well as a few new bullet holes but no injuries thankfully. The front bumper was covered in blood by this point as were the tires. The windshield had a few cracks in it but other than minor things they made it out of the city in one piece. Seeing all the empty highway around them they actually managed to relax a little. From the Hell within the city to the comfort and familiarity of an empty highway. The difference was like dunking your head in a stream. After an hour with no sign of death or destruction it was actually possible to forget what they had just left.

They enjoyed the ride in silence right up until they passed a girl being raped on the side of the road. Jack immediately ordered the truck stopped as he threw open the door and was on his feet running, weapon shouldered before the tires stopped spinning. The girl couldn't have been any older than fifteen, with shoulder length blonde hair, and the remains of a knit sweater pushed up to her armpits as she lay on her back trying to fight off her attacker who must have outweighed her by a hundred pounds. She would have been pretty before the bruising, smeared makeup, and blood stemming from several cuts on her face. Without pausing Jack sighted and fired, hitting the rapist just above his ear. A 5.56 round isn't very big, about the size of a .22, but it has a lot of power behind it. It entered barely leaving a hole but the shockwave caved in the area around the entry wound. As the round passed through his skull moving faster than the speed of sound, the waves of energy that followed turned everything inside his head to mush. Once it punched out the other side the shockwave ripped all that mush and a good chunk of his skull out with it to spray against the nearby car. He was dead before the rest of his body realized it. Now missing about half of his head, the corpse slowly fell beside the screaming girl.

Jack lowered his rifle slowly, now pointing in the general direction in stead of directly at the girl. When she realized what had happened she looked over wildly. Seeing Jack standing there she quickly scrambled to pull an old Tokarev pistol out of the back of the meat sacks pants. Jacks rifle snapped back up as soon as she did but instead of aiming it at him she placed it against the underside of her chin.

"No WAIT! – "

BAM!

He hated the way his mind saw things. He saw it happen in real time like everyone else, but at the same time his mind didn't skip a single detail. It was almost like it was happening in slow motion. She looked him in the eyes as she pulled the trigger. Pretty green eyes that some boy could get lost in some day. They were deep pools of expression. Right now all they were expressing was soul wrenching pain. This was a girl who truly had given up and was frantically trying to find an alternative to the hell she was now living in. Next came the shot and he watched the Russian pistol belch out its war cry. He saw the muzzle flash; he saw the gun jump in her hand as her inexperienced wrist buckled under the recoil of the heavy round. He saw the slide come back and eject the round. The shiny piece of brass flipped away from the gun trailing smoke almost cheerily, happy that it had done its job. The hole it left in the bottom of her chin was so startlingly clean and sharp. A perfect circle Jack knew analytically would be just slightly larger than 7.62mm. The hole on the other side however was much worse. Just like the man who drove her to this, she was not treated gently by the passage of the bullet. The shock did not spare her anymore than it had her attacker. One second her head was whole, the next the top of her skull was just gone in a great fountain of blood, bone, and brain matter.

Jack sank to his knees as her body fell backwards. He just managed to claw the scarf off of his face in time to noisily throw up the few things he had eaten the day before. It was too much. A person could only take so much before they couldn't handle it anymore. The girl had hit hers, Jack still had some fight left in him but God was it getting hard.

The sound of footsteps and a hand placed on his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see Ramirez looking down at him with concern. Looking past him he saw that everyone was out of the vehicles. Half of them were watching the surrounding areas looking for threats but the other half were looking his way with concern written all over their faces. He could mourn the dead later after he had taken care of the living.

"Mount Up!" he yelled out after picking himself up off the pavement. The others obeyed without saying a word. Nobody wanted to say anything. Everybody was getting pushed past their emotional limits.

As much as they had hoped for a quiet ride the rest of the way it was not to be. Less than an hour later they slowed to a stop as they saw two vehicles blocking the road ahead of them about 100 metres away. One was a newer Toyota corolla with its front end smashed in and the inside of the front windows stained with blood. The other was a Ford F150 with a large tarp covering the bed of the truck. The way the vehicles were stopped was what had Jacks senses on high alert. Both were stopped perpendicular to the highway with the Toyotas front end pressed into the tailgate of the Ford. It was obviously a trap. Someone had set up this roadblock, all that remained was finding out who.

They didn't have to wait long apparently as soon after they had exited the trucks and taken up a defensive position on the ground braced against the trucks with weapons pointed outwards, five people stepped out from behind the other vehicles. Each of them was heavily armed with a mix of hunting rifles, shotguns, and two with C7's. One of the men holding a C7 stepped forward.

"Welcome ladies and gentlemen!" He called out with a grand sweep of his arms, rifle included "To Max's free Highway giveaway! The rules are simple. Each of you will step away from the vehicles, you will put all your worldly possessions on the ground in front of you. You will then walk away. In return, Bob here won't turn you all into red jelly" With that last statement the tarp covering the bed of the truck was thrown back revealing a man in blood stained navy work dress standing behind an M2 Browning .50 cal.

Clearly Bob had managed to get access to Esquilmault's weapon lock up and somehow had managed to walk out with one of the fiftys that are meant to be mounted on a ship. It wouldn't have taken very long to rig up a mount for the back of the truck, especially if they had anticipated the need.

Without that meat grinder currently pointed at them Jack would have been confidant in their odds, only one of the men with weapons looked like he actually knew how to handle it. But Bob up there wouldn't even need to be especially accurate. That gun would literally turn them into red coloured paste. Bob would have to be the first to die.

Twisting his body slightly to hide the movement, Jack keyed his mike and muttered "Anybody got a shot on the fifty gunner?"

"I got him" came the equally quiet reply from Craig over the headset.

Addressing Max, Jack called out "After careful consideration I'm afraid we're going to have to go with Fuck You on this one."

"Send it" he muttered into his headset.

Max looked annoyed for a second as he spread his arms and said "Well that's a shame because – "

They never did find out why it was a shame because at that exact moment Craig's rifle fired with a loud crack and Bob suddenly found himself with a bullet hole through his left eye. All hell broke loose after that. The other would be highwaymen all scattered, some took cover behind the vehicles while two others dove into a ditch. Only Max stood his ground, Jack had to admire his bravery for that at least. The dumb bastard raised his rifle and started blasting off on full auto. He was cut down with a quick burst from Andrews C9. Jack was still taking cover behind the door of the truck and shooting at anyone who poked their heads out. After about five minutes of trading fire back and forth the shooting died down. Scanning Jack didn't see anyone left standing

"How many do you count?" Jack called out.

"I got five including Mr Sailor over there." That came from Ramirez. As soon as he said that one of the guys who hid in the ditch popped up to run. A quick double tap from Joe's C7 put him back down in the dirt.

"Make that six" he said dryly.

"Alright, search the area then check the vehicles and I want that fifty taken care of." Jack called out as he started towards the bodies. There wasn't really much left. The bodies were still intact unlike after the armouries, but there was nothing to scavenge. The highwaymen had used all their ammo trying to win a firefight against opponents who had them out gunned. A quick check of their pockets turned up nothing useful. A few hundred thousand in cash was sitting in the cab of the truck but all it was good for was lighting fires these days. Sitting in the backseat was something that made Jack smile a little though only to himself. One of these men must have made a trip to the U.S. recently because sitting in the backseat of the truck was a carton of Marlboro Red cigarettes. He didn't really smoke more than one or so a night but it was a small comfort amidst everything that was going on.

Walking back to the MilCOTS with the carton of smokes tucked under one arm, he called out to everyone to mount up. As everyone moved back to the trucks, Mark shrugged and pulled a grenade out of his vest before yelling "Frag out!" and tossing it into the bed of the Ford with the fifty caliber in it. He jogged back to the trucks and made it about twenty meters away before it went off with a loud boom completely mangling the heavy machine gun. Before loading up Jack had everyone grab some food from the back of their trucks. The IMP rations weren't exactly the tastiest but they did the job.

The sun was quickly heading downwards by the time they were finished. Between Jack and Jessica sleeping in, to the hours spent in the armoury getting ready and the drive time they had quickly killed what little sunlight they had left. A quick poll found that other than Jack himself, only Craig had night vision. Even then that was only because like Jack, he had purchased his himself. Jack didn't want headlights announcing their every move and they couldn't afford to move as slowly as blackout lights would require. So Jack passed his off to Joe who was driving and climbed back into the passenger seat. The sun had now fallen below the horizon and darkness was more prevalent than light so he gave the order to switch to blackout mode. All it took was a small switch under the centre console and all the lights in and outside of the truck were turned off to be replaced by tiny sets of lights that could only be seen within twenty meters of the vehicles. With the NVG's on they a clear view of the darkness surrounding them.

As the trucks rumbled on into the night jack leaned back in his seat, dropped his scarf and shook out a cigarette. He pulled an old beat up brass zippo from the pocket of his vest and lit up the cancer stick. He closed his eyes as the smoke filled his lungs and blew out a grey cloud. He knew they were bad for him but fuck it, there was a very large chance that he was never going to leave this island again so he didn't really care. A sudden thought occurred to him that He wasn't the only smoker in the truck. He could practically feel Jess bouncing in her seat at the smell of the tobacco smoke. Grinning to himself he pulled another pack from the carton and tossed it into the seat behind him along with his zippo. There was a small squeal of excitement which was immediately followed by Jess leaning forward and pecking him on the cheek. That had certainly never happened before. Jess was flirty by nature, but even that was going further than usual for her. He brushed it off as an overestimated friendly gesture brought on by stress and enjoyed the last of his cigarette. After he was done he closed his eyes and tried to get some sleep as the Kilometers flew by.

"Hey, Jack"

Jacks eyes snapped open at the sound of his name. Checking his watch, he had been asleep for only 45 minutes. It had not been enough.

"Yeah what's up Joe?" He asked the man sitting next to him.

"We're approaching Nanaimo. I figured you'd want to know."

"Ok thanks." He looked out the window and saw the lights of the city sprawled before them. He knew they'd have to drive through downtown to get to where they were going and with the way everything else had gone it was more likely that they would be assaulting through the city. He didn't want to do that at night if it could be at all avoided so he keyed his mic and said. "Hey Craig pull over in this clearing up here."

The trucks pulled into a small gravel turn around area and shut off their engines. When everyone got out including the doctor they all congregated on Jack.

"Alright listen up. We're going to have to drive through the city to get to my place. There is an extremely high chance that were going to be taking fire the second we're within sight of… well anyone. So since it will probably happen anyway, I'd rather avoid a firefight at night when only two people have NVG's. We're going to camp here for the night and try to get some sleep. We'll assault our way through the city in the morning. Any questions?"

No one spoke up. They were all as bone tired as he was. Today had been an emotional roller coaster. It wasn't likely that anyone was going to get much sleep but patches here and there were better than nothing.

"Listen, I know none of us have any experience in the things we've had to do today. This is beyond anything we've ever been asked to do. But I am beyond proud as hell of all of you. You've held it together. All we need to do now is continue to hold it together, and we'll get out of this alive. Remember, we may not have all the specialized training the infantry has but combat road moves are what we ARE trained for. We're Canadian soldiers. This isn't going to beat us." Jack wasn't expecting a resounding cheer from his impromptu speech. He'd smack the shit out of them if they had but seeing the determined set to their shoulders made him feel better about their confidence for tomorrow and all further tomorrows. After they broke apart Jack had them back the MilCOTS into the treeline to help conceal the vehicles. Once the hasty cam over the windows and shiny parts and the Cam netting over the whole lot of it was deployed, the vehicles were practically invisible unless you were standing within five feet. After that was done they all pitched in in pulling out the tents Craig had packed earlier. Once the small four man tents were set up and a watch schedule was established, everybody climbed inside the tents and each tried to get some sleep.

The middle of the night was not Craig's idea of a fun time to be sitting in the forest along the side of the highway. He was a supply tech; his workday was spent inside a warehouse. Sitting against the front tire of a milcot wrapped in a ranger blanket with a set of NVG's looking for danger was not what he enjoyed doing. But still, he supposed there were worse things. He could be dead right now. He probably would be if not for Jack. The guy could be a psychotic robot at times, well most of the time, but he had a cool head when it counted. Not to mention more money than God and the resources that went with it. Spitting a mouthful of brown coloured saliva into the dirt next to him, he shifted the wad of Redman chewing tobacco against his gums and picked up the bolt carrier for his C7 and reinserted it into the rifle. Without thinking about it he snapped off a quick function test and inserted a fresh mag. Racking the rifle he chambered a round and placed it on safe before getting up to take a quick walk around.

The trucks were well hidden and if he didn't have the Night vision monocle attached to his helmet he knew he never would have seen them. Mid January on Vancouver Island meant almost constant cloud cover. He was just glad that it wasn't raining. As he walked along behind the tents Craig had to admit that they had been remarkably lucky thus far. No one was dead or seriously injured. The trucks had made it out of the city in one piece and they were even managing to get some sleep tonight even if Craig had gotten the balls watch. It was one in the morning, darker than the inside of a bats asshole, and if you ignored the occasional sound of gunfire from the city you could almost believe everything was normal.

As he rounded the other side of the milcot a sudden flare of light in the monocle made him hiss in pain. It was the high beams from an old VW Golf as it rounded the corner coming out of Nanaimo. After lifting the monocle and allowing his eyes to adjust he saw the car just in time for it to swerve violently into the ditch. The headlights were destroyed by the impact as the engine sputtered out.

Before Craig had a chance to wonder if he should call out a stand to, waking everybody and drawing attention to their encampment, the sound of a car door opening followed by a muffled woman's voice yelling no, interrupted his train of thought. Flipping the monocle back down he took in the scene in front of him.

A blonde woman in her mid twenties was fighting her way out of the passenger seat while a larger man was trying to grab at her pants and pull her back in. Seeing the situation as easy to handle, Craig decided against his rifle as it would make to much noise. Slinging it behind his back, he drew his bayonet. The deadly piece of steel was made by the Ontario Knife Company and was more of a combat knife that could be attached to a rifle. The distinction was important because a pure bayonet was not designed to be sharpened. It could be, certainly and often was, but it would dull after cutting butter. The new OKC Bayonet was a knife, pure and simple, and as such was razor sharp.

By the time Craig had drawn closer the woman had managed to free herself from the car and was running blindly toward him in an attempt to get away from the man who had climbed out the door after her and was chasing her. He was furious and yelling things like. "Get back here you bitch! What did ya think the ride was for free? Get that sweet ass over here!" Hearing this is what made up Craig's mind. He had been forced to see too many rapes today only to drive past. He was a protector by nature. Call it old fashioned but it was what he was. The blonde girl from earlier today floated through his mind as he moved to intercept the man.

Neither one of them saw him as the woman ran past him and the man drew closer. He stepped to the side of her attacker, seemingly a ghost despite his size. As the man passed clearly illuminated to Craig through the green filter of the passive night vision, he reached out and grabbed the man. A tree trunk like arm wrapped around the mans throat cutting off all noise. All that managed to escape before he tightened his grip was a strangled grunt. Craig knew there was a major artery under the arm and stabbed his knife straight into the mans armpit. He held the thrashing man still as he sawed his blade back and forth ensuring the thumb thick blood vessel was severed. He could feel the hot blood pouring down his arm and the side of his combats but he held the man until he stopped thrashing. With his elevated heart rate and the fact that the artery was completely severed, he bled out in less than 30 seconds.

Releasing his grip, he let the man drop to the ground and wiped his blade on the dead mans sleeve. Returning his blade to the scabbard he looked around for the woman. She was about twenty paces away from running headlong into the first of the trucks. Running to catch up, he intercepted her before she hurt herself slamming into a truck she couldn't see. He reached out and wrapped a hand around her mouth to stop her from screaming as he pulled her tight. He was surprised at how hard she fought, biting into his hand while shifting her hips to the side and slamming her fist into his groin. He grunted in pain and almost let go. He could see spots dancing in front of his eyes but he held on.

"Jesus fuck woman would you stop? You're safe!" he hissed into her ear.

She stopped struggling as soon as she heard the new voice. Not relaxed exactly but frozen like a deer in the headlights.

"He's dead you're safe. Now if I release you will you stay calm and quiet? Nod if yes."

When he felt her shaky nod he let her go and stepped back. She stood extremely still, obviously still terrified and unsure what he was going to do. He introduced himself in an attempt to calm her down.

"My name is Private Craig Tawny, Canadian Forces what's your name?" he said in a soothing voice.

After taking a second to collect herself the woman replied "Krista Jocylene, th-thank you for saving me. I-I don't know what I would have done otherwise." She was clearly still shaken up and rightly so given what had nearly happened. It seemed to be a trend lately, they only came across women when they were about to be raped. She shifted her arms against the chill and that was when Craig really noticed her. The girl was beautiful in geeky mousy sort of way. She looked a lot like Emily Bett Rickards character Felicity Smoak from the show Arrow. Long blond hair held up in a pony tail framed a narrow angular face and a broad mouth. Dark defined eyebrows hovered over a set of square framed glasses. The glasses perched on her nose only drew attention to her eyes. The colour while hard to tell through the green filter of the night vision seemed to be a pale colour maybe blue or green. It was clear she was cold in the night chill as she was wearing a thin pair of jeans and a thin plaid button up shirt over a white tank top.

"Alright Kristy come over this way, before you freeze out here." He gently took her by the arm and led her over to where his ranger blanket rested on the ground against the truck tire.

As she followed him she suddenly spoke up. "How can you see anything right now? I literally can't see anything in front of my face. Though I guess that's not saying much given how terrible my eyesight is. To be fair though I blame my mother for that. Her whole side of the family is notorious for being basically blind. I think my great grandmother actually was blind."

Craig was happy to let her ramble. Aside from how cute it was, it was clearly her coping mechanism and he wasn't about to stop her from getting what comfort she could in the situation. He simply wrapped the blanket around her shoulders as he said "I'm wearing night vision. Now stay right here while I go and get the guy in charge." While he respected Jack, he still wasn't sure what to call him. Master Corporal wouldn't make any sense to anyone not military. Besides, he had made it clear that no matter who joined, he was in charge. He couldn't fault him for that. He had done an alright job so far but still what should he call him? Sir? Jack? Boss? Commander? El Jefe?

As he approached the tent that Jack slept in he wondered how he would react to the things that had happened while he slept.

The boy was covered in blood. The front of his striped shirt was soaked in red stemming from the huge gash across his throat. He was staring up at him and smiling with dead eyes. He could hear the father screaming somewhere in the background. As he looked Jack could see that the boy's hand was being held by a blonde fifteen-year-old girl with torn leggings and a knit sweater bunched up under her arms. She was missing the top part of her skull. To his horror she too was smiling.

"Jack wake up" they said together. It was horrible. He dropped to his knees and started crying.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save you! I'm sorry I was too late!"

"Jack seriously wake the fuck up" was the only reply he got. He knew this was his fault. It was all his faul-

Jack suddenly snapped awake when he felt a boot connect with his leg. Lightly to be sure but when Craig Tawny kicked you, even light pressure felt like a bulldozer.

"Ah what the fuck Craig?" Jack snapped out as he rubbed his thigh.

"Don't be such a pussy, listen something happened you need to get out here. We're not in any immediate danger though." Came the gruff reply from the bear sized man.

Grumbling to himself, Jack rolled out of his sleeping bag and started pulling his clothes on. Five minutes later he climbed out, fully dressed minus his vest, helmet, and scarf. Armed only with the .45 in it's holster on his thigh he walked over to the soft glow of the red filtered flashlight.

Jack wanted to swear when he got closer. Figures he goes to sleep for… actually he didn't know how long it had been but when he wakes up, they've picked up another stray. She seemed rather attached to Craig, though that could be stress.

As he approached Craig stood and filled him in on everything that happened starting with the crash and ending with going to wake up Jack. When he heard what happened he did swear.

"Fuck seriously? Where's the car?" As Craig pointed the direction of the crashed vehicle, Jack pulled his own red filtered flashlight out of his pocket. Red light was extremely useful in tactical situations for two reasons. The main one was that no matter how bright, red light would not ruin your night vision. That's why most alarm clocks displayed the time in red. The second reason was that it was generally dimmer and a lot harder to see at night. You could look directly at a red light from thirty meters away and have a hard time seeing it. The downside was that it WAS a lot dimmer. All jack could see was what was directly in front of his feet so he nearly tripped over the body of Krista's attacker. _ Just once I want to save a woman from a nice normal murder attempt. It would say much better things about men in general_.

The site of the body was gruesome to be sure. His face and neck were clean but everything from the chest down was completely soaked in blood. It looked like he had been covered in black ink in the red glow but Jack knew better. Craig had done a good job. Moving on, Jack arrived at the car. Its front end was completely smashed in with both airbags deployed. Searching through it, he found a Glock 22 with about a hundred rounds of 40 caliber ammo. Admiring the weapon, he tucked it into the back of his pants and put the extra ammunition into one of his leg pockets temporarily. Further searching revealed a gym bag filled with women's clothing and photos of a younger Krista with an older couple he assumed were her parents.

Zipping up the gym bag he started back over to the trucks. As he arrived he placed the bag on the ground just out of arms reach of the blonde newcomer.

"I believe this belongs to you." Jack said stepping back from the bag and sitting down across from her. Krista got up and retrieved the bag, returning and sitting even closer to Craig this time. Theory confirmed, Craig officially had a follower.

"Craig you can get some sleep. I'll stay up the rest of the night. I'd like to talk to our new arrival for a little while." Krista grabbed Craig's arm in a death grip when he got up to go back to the tents, so he shrugged and sat back down.

"I think I'll stay for a little while, at least until your done with her. Then we'll both go and get some sleep." He said this while glancing at the still terrified blonde woman out of the corner of his eye. Jack could see her visibly relax at the news that Craig wasn't going anywhere.

Over the next twenty minutes Jack managed to get the girls story out of her. Krista Jocylene had just graduated from UVic the other week with a Masters in Computer Science. She had decided to celebrate by driving up island and staying with some friends while they spent the week partying. She had seen all the cars leaving the Island but like so many other people had thought it was just an overreaction caused by mass hysteria in the media. She had been woken up by the sound of her friend stabbing her boyfriend of six years to death with a chef's knife. Apparently he had been cheating on her with someone from work. She had grabbed her bag and run outside to find the city in chaos. Nanaimo wasn't in much better shape than Victoria apparently. Worse even if that was possible. After realizing that she forgot her car keys inside, she started running rather than risk going back inside. She could hear screaming coming from her friend's roommates and wasn't willing to risk it. After running all over the city trying to stay alive for most of the day, she finally found herself sitting on the curb of a quiet street, gym bag next to her crying her eyes out and waiting to die.

Then a red Volkswagen Golf pulled up in front of her and the driver offered to get her out of the city. Night was falling and he was the first person that wasn't trying to attack her so she jumped on his offer. That of course led to where they now were. Jack listened intently and Krista clung to Craig as she spoke like she might be swept away if she let go.

Jack didn't know why but he trusted her. He may come to regret this decision later but that sounded like a Future Jack problem.

"Ok Krista" at the mention of her name she looked up fearfully. "You can come with us. Only thing is until we get where we're going It's going to be incredibly dangerous. We have to go back into Nanaimo tomorrow. I can't guarantee your safety, but I can guarantee we will all do everything in our power to look after you ok?"

She swallowed hard when he mentioned going back into Nanaimo but a quick glance at Craig sitting there half asleep with a wad of dip bulging out his cheek set her shoulders and she nodded determinedly. Jack had to resist the urge to chuckle. That man was doomed and he had no idea.

"Alright Tawny, take blondie here and get to bed. I'll take the rest of the watch. Set her up in my bag, she looks half frozen." The thought of trying to sleep again had Jacks stomach flipping in knots. After fetching his rifle and gear, Jack sat with his back to the truck tire. Wrapped up in his own ranger blanket with the NVG's clipped to his helmet and C8 across his knees, he tried not to let his demons win. The sound of an agonized wail in the back of his mind told him he was losing.

The next morning Jack had them up as the sky was lightening from pitch black to a dark blue on one side. Sometime during the night, the clouds had cleared and the stars had shone through. No matter how many times he saw it he would never get used to seeing the night sky through night vision. By the time they had the camp packed up and were eating a breakfast of cold IMP's the sky had lightened considerably though the sun had not yet crested the horizon. Flicking away the butt of his cigarette Jack reaffixed the scarf and goggles over his face and signalled everybody to mount up. Today he would be lead vehicle to make it easier to find where they were going especially if they were going to be hit as hard as he thought they would. Climbing into the passenger seat, he checked to make sure everyone was ready to go before telling Joe to head out. Craig was still driving the other vehicle with Krista sitting behind him next to Tricia. She had been just the same in the light of day, never straying more than five feet from his side. Everybody was surprised to see her among them the next day. Jess commented to Craig that it appeared he now had a duckling in tow. Craig merely grunted non committedly though Jack saw him smile as soon as Jess turned around. The drive into Nanaimo was a fairly quiet one. There was still the sound of gunfire throughout the city but as they passed the first few buildings it almost seemed as if all of Jacks fears were for nothing. While it was technically downtown, they weren't exactly driving on main street were all the fighting seemed to be concentrated. It had died down considerably overnight.

"Maybe our luck has turned for once." He mused to himself. It would be nice after all.

He spoke too soon.

Up ahead a man wearing a red ball cap whipped around the corner holding a hunting rifle, aimed and fired. The front windshield exploded as the bullet caught Joe right under the eye. The back of his head exploded all over Mark who was sitting behind him. Luckily after passing through Joe's skull It bounced harmlessly off of Mark's helmet. The truck swerved violently to the right as Joe's body slumped over and Jack had to reach over and straighten the wheel. He could hear Jess screaming into the radio "CONTACT! Contact front! Joe's hit!" Jack was too busy trying to keep the truck moving and on the road as fire starting pouring in from all around them. Pushing down on Joe's now limp leg to keep the accelerator down, he struggled to get his body out of the way. It seemed like every building they passed had a shooter in the window, most of them were wearing something with red on it.

"Help me get him out of the way!" he yelled into the backseat. Another pair of hands came from behind and helped Jack muscle the skinny man out of the driver's seat all while he tried to keep the truck on the road. He managed to get his foot over and on the gas to keep the truck moving. Their speed was the only thing keeping them alive right now. If they stopped, they were dead.

Once Joe's body was safely in the backseat he hopped over the centre console and into the driver's seat. He got there just in time for another round to hit the windshield and blow it inward. Another round entered grazing his temple. The shockwave disoriented him as it hit the edge of his goggles, shattering the plastic and gouging out the side of his head. He ignored the pain as another round hit him in the leg through the door.

Taking stock Jack looked around as he accelerated taking turns fast enough to cause the tires to lose traction and drift around the corner. Marks C9 behind him was keeping heads down as it blasted away but it was about to run out of ammo by Jacks estimate. Same with Drew's in the other vehicle. Jess was blasting at anything with a weapon and actually hitting about one out of four things she shot at. There were so many empty mags, casings, C9 links and empty boxes on the floor that Jack thought it had to surely be covering their boots. He managed to ignore all the hot brass from the machine gun that got caught between his vest and skin. Craig was keeping up as best as he could with all the sharp turns Jack was taking and it was only a matter of time before – **CHUNK** _hhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiisssssssssssssss. _Jack decided in the back of his mind that he really needed to learn to shut his fucking mouth. Steam was now pouring in thick clouds out of the front of the engine as the unarmoured radiator took a round directly into it. It wouldn't be long now before the truck would overheat and seize completely. As he turned another corner he saw someone out of his side window preparing to throw what looked like a pipe bomb in front of the truck. Before he could think about it, Jack drew the 1911 from it's holster and shot the would be bomber through the driver's side window. Amazingly he actually hit him and the pipe bomb dropped at his feet where it exploded after they had passed.

Just as Jack was starting to think it couldn't possibly get any worse and that they were all about to die, he saw the turn off ahead. As they made the turn it was like night and day. Once they were off the main street the steady stream of incoming fire seemed to die off. Jack followed the winding road as it led them further out of the city. Jack could feel the tension leaking out of his shoulders as they grew closer to their destination. It was good that they were getting so close because the engine had stopped steaming and was now making some rather stressed noises.

When the main gate to his compound came into view he could swear that he had never seen a more beautiful sight in his life. Just before they rolled up to it the engine gave a final chug and died. He managed to get it into neutral before the transmission seized up and they coasted up to the gate.

Climbing out he suddenly remembered that he had been shot in the leg and collapsed onto the ground with a yell of pain. Tricia was on him a moment later checking the wound and bandaging it tightly.

"How are the others?" he managed to get out through groans of pain.

"Everyone from our truck is fine" Tricia replied in her crisp British accent. "Minor cuts and grazing from glass and close calls. Looks to be the same with your vehicle. I'd say you got the worst of it. Where's Joe?"

When Jack shook his head she nodded sadly and moved on the check the others. Jack pulled himself to his feet. He had gotten Joe killed getting everyone here. Might as well make sure it wasn't in vain. Using his rifle as a crutch he hobbled over to the gate and punch in a code followed by his thumb print. As the gate beeped and swung open he looked at the rather beat up crew of individuals before him. They were all covered in blood and sweat to one degree or another and looked like they had run a marathon covered in burning coals and barbed wire. Pulling off the now useless goggles, and lowering his scarf he shook out another cigarette and lit it. This had been without a doubt the longest day of their lives.

And it wasn't even 9:00 yet

**A/N: Oh No Joe! Not going to lie, originally I was going to kill off Craig but then the scene at the campsite just kind of happened and suddenly I have a new character and Craig gets to live. Anyway Next chapter we see the house! And all the high tech goodies that are in the secret mansion of a tech genius. Cheers!**


	4. Chapter 4: Settling In

**A/N Well here's Chapter 4. You may notice some differences in the background story and that's because I'm planning a full rewrite of Chapter 1. Too short and too many plot holes. Not to mention just not a very good premise. Anyway we finally get to see Jack's house and the full extent of the kind of tech he's developed. I did warn that it was going to get pretty high tech later on so… yeah fun times. Oh and if you're ever bored check out my tumblr ****fremen1992**** I post regular updates on how the story is progressing.**

**Chapter 4: Settling In**

The tension being released into the air was evident amongst all of them as they all stepped through the gates. As soon as the heavy iron bars thudded back into place Jack let out a sigh of relief. It had taken longer than he would have liked for him and his companions to unload the truck full of gear they had brought. Food, personal kit, and tents were heavy especially after they were already worked down to the bone, going through this dystopian hell. The radio was the last thing they removed. They had kept it activated and continuously scanning through channels hoping to hear a sign that there were other active military units nearby that they could reach out to. So far no luck.

With the truck stripped of everything they needed and loaded up into the second, still barely running Milcot everyone piled in anyplace they could. There was absolutely no room in the bed. It was piled to the rafters with weapons and everything they had hauled out of Jack's vehicle. With the shocks already bottomed out the vehicle seemed to give off a groan when two extra people piled in. Mark perched hunched over on the radio mount in the backseat, and Jess climbed onto Drew's lap giving a giggle at how red his face got even though he tried to hide it. Even Jack had to hold back a chuckle when she suddenly shot up straight and looked back at him as his face got even redder as he muttered an apology.

For himself, Jack walked alongside the vehicle. His helmet was hanging buckled off the back of his vest and his identity concealing scarf looped loosely around his neck. He needed neither now that they were inside the compound. Granted, there was still a chance of somebody climbing the wall before they got there. However they would need a ladder to do it. They were moving at a crawl for two reasons, one was that Jack would be hopping on board in a minute or two and the other was that they weren't sure if the truck would survive going any faster, in this fragile state.

After another minute of walking up the paved driveway with the cover of heavy forested surroundings, they came across a small brick utility building. Jack broke off from the vehicle after signalling for them to wait. Walking up to the door he keyed in a short four-digit passcode. The lock gave off a beep followed by a click of the lock disengaging. Pulling open the door he turned on the lights and walked over to the two things he was searching for. One was a large industrial breaker switch, more of a lever really, and the other was a red valve wheel attached to a length of water pipes coming out of the wall. He flipped the breaker and heard the hum of the transformers behind him as he connected the main power supply to the house. Turning to the valve he braced himself and slowly began turning the valve that was connected to the water main. The rushing of water and a light turning from red to green told him he had accomplished his task.

With the job done, he walked back outside and secured the door behind him. He walked back over to the truck and climbed up onto the hood, moving his helmet out of the way and leaning back against the passenger side of the windshield. Once he was in a comfortable and secure position, he waved Craig forwards and the truck continued its slow lumber up the hill.

Five minutes later they rounded the last tree covered corner and the house finally came into view. Calling it a house was a bit like calling an aircraft carrier a row boat. It was a massive sprawling two story mansion. It had about as much armour as an aircraft carrier too. Foot thick, steel reinforced concrete walls that could withstand a direct hit from a 105mm anti tank round. Most of the front of the house was taken up by massive floor to ceiling windows made from a composite bullet proof glass that Jack had designed himself. In the event of an attack three-inch-thick steel shutters could be lowered over the windows. None of this heavy armour was apparent to the casual observer however. The entire building was sided with darkly stained British Columbia Pine, cut from the property. It gave the house the look of a modernized cabin. The main area of the house had an A-frame which looked like a giant windowed triangle. On each side there were more traditionally rectangular wings. The whole house looked like a triangle sticking up through a rectangle. The whole front end of the triangles was made up of windows giving a clear view into the house/cabin. Across the entire second floor stretched a large deck with access from the sitting room and each bedroom. The left side of the house when facing it was almost entirely made up of a massive two car garage and workshop on the lower floor. The upper floor was a complete in-law suite. It even had a separate full bathroom and laundry. The other side of the house was all bedrooms both upper and lower floors. Even the basement looked more like a dormitory hall with ten rooms in it than a house. All in all, the house was gorgeous and it had been far too long since Jack had been here.

Placed off to the side of the main building was a smaller more utilitarian looking single floor building. That was the private clinic that Jack had had built on a whim. It was as completely stocked as a hospital emergency room, even including a small operating theater. He had been glad when they came across Tricia, as he was sure she would feel right at home when she saw it.

As they pulled up in front of the main house Jack jumped down from the hood of the truck and walked over to the double front doors. The security at the front door was even more intense requiring a 16 key password and a retinal scan before it would open for him.

"It's only because I've been away" He explained. "When I leave I set it to an unoccupied lockdown. A full security lockdown is much worse." As the door opened, he walked in and couldn't help but smile. He really did love this place and didn't get out here nearly as much as he wanted to. Directly in front of the doorway was a large hardwood staircase leading up to the main floor. They all abandoned the truck as they followed him inside, and up the stairs. The main floor was just as gorgeous as the rest of the house. To the left down a short hallway was a door that Jack explained led to the in law suite above the garage. To the right was the main sitting room and the kitchen. The sitting room was large and full of comfortable looking couches and recliners, all oriented towards the massive angled windows and the big fireplace centered in front of it. The rafters were all exposed and made out of bare logs. The kitchen was any cook's wet dream. The first thing to be noticed was a large granite topped island, lined with stools that extended from one wall to over halfway onto the other side. It doubled as an informal dining area and prep station. Along the adjacent wall were all the stoves. First, a gas powered spider top next to a large restaurant sized flat top grill. Next to that, was a more conventional barbecue-style grill and a single basket deep fryer. Bringing up the end up against the wall, were a set of double stacked convection ovens. Jack was not ashamed to admit that he held a deep passion for cooking. The back wall was taken up by dish and prep sinks, as well as a commercial dishwasher. Along the wall across from the stoves was storage. Fridge, freezers, dry pantry, and utensils made it so that there was absolutely no wall left unoccupied.

Past the kitchen and sitting room, was another wide hallway that led to the main bathroom on one side and Jack's bedroom on the other. At the end of the hall was Jack's destination. He led the group down there, grinning to himself as their excited comments filled the recently silent and dead home, when they took in his private retreat. The door at the end of the hallway didn't fit in at all with the décor of the rest of the house. While everything else was warm colours and bare wood, this door was made of solid brushed steel. Mounted above the door in stainless steel lettering was the name "Wonderland", mounted below the door handle, was yet another keypad and card scanner combo. While not as demanding as the front door, this room still required an eight-digit code before it let him in with the now characteristic beep and click of the lock disengaging.

"Krista, I think you'll find this particular room to be your favourite." Jack addressed to the blonde woman as he led the way inside. The rest of his companions (minus the doctor who had branched off earlier towards the clinic), exchanged looks with each other at the slurring in his speech. When they crossed the threshold into the air conditioned room, Jack once again smiled to himself when he heard Krista gasp. The room they entered was the smallest one yet. It was closer to the size of the utility shack they had passed on the way in. Completely dark with no windows, the only light came from the LED indicators on the two large mainframe towers up against the far wall. Against the wall to their left was a large glass topped desk that stretched from wall to wall. Hanging above it and angled downwards were three massive monitors that took up the remaining space on the wall. Cables ran from under the desk to the mainframes like snakes. In front of the desk, placed off to the left of the two comfortable looking computer chairs, was a waist high cylindrical podium about as big around as an oxygen tank and completely smooth. Across from the desk, was a plain door that looked very similar to all the other bedroom doors in the house.

Jack hobbled over to the desk and pulled off his right glove. He had to pause to wipe the blood off of his hand. Where had the blood come from? He couldn't remember anything very well. He knew he had been shot earlier and was probably losing a lot of blood even with the bandaging the doctor had done. Once his hand was free of his own gore he placed his palm flat on the desk. It lit up with a green outline of his hand and beeped, the outline flashing three times before he heard the cooling fans on the mainframe spool up. The pedestal to his left began to give off a hum as well as lights recessed around the inner rim on top came to life. The three monitors above him lit up as well and a text cursor began blinking against the black screen. Struggling to keep from swaying he danced his fingers across the desk and a keyboard lit up in green on it's surface. It was difficult to remember the start up command. He couldn't recall ever being this tired before in his life. Finally, and with great difficulty he typed in the command he was looking for.

"start_program ANNI"

As the Mainframe hum got even louder and the lights on the pedestal flared briefly he finally succumbed to the exhaustion that was clawing at him and hit the ground with a thud. The last thing he saw before blackness consumed him was a woman's figure spring into being on top of the pedestal.

When Jack woke, it felt like he was suffering the world's worst hangover. The beeping coming from next to him needed to stop NOW. His head felt heavy as he looked around for the source of the beep. Looking next to him, he saw that he was hooked up to an ECG machine monitoring his heart rate. Apparently, he discovered when he tried to sit up, he was hooked up to an IV as well. Also, it would appear that he was naked underneath the scratchy hospital sheets. _Wait, Hospital? _Panicking, Jack looked around frantically worried that he had been taken to the hospital in the city. They had just gotten through there, why would they take him back?

The increased rate of beeps coming from the ECG were what drew Tricia to him from the small office in the other room. She had been pleasantly surprised to see how well stocked the small clinic had been. She had seen hospitals in her native England with less equipment. There was even a small X-Ray machine and an MRI tucked away in the back. She directed her attention to the currently struggling man on the bed. She owed her life to this man and would do anything he ever asked of her. However, she had had to put two litres of blood in him after stitching him up, and if he undid her work with his thrashing she would cheerfully kill him herself.

"Jack Hawkins, it took me two hours to remove the bullets from your thigh and shoulder and repair the damage. I had to replace two litres of lost blood, and you almost died twice on the table. If you do anything to hurt yourself because you're thrashing about like a Nancy, I _swear_ I will beat you to death with a bedpan. I will find a bedpan, and I will beat you to death with it." She gave him her glare that had made the unruliest of patients and nurses back down. He went still immediately. She had to fight back a smile. Always trust the glare, it never fails.

"Very well, now that you've calmed down. You're safe and you're in the clinic near your house, which I must say is very impressive. You have been out for nearly two days which has been enough time for everyone to come and check on you at least twice. You're quite lucky to be alive you know. However, with my expert care you should be able to move into the house in another three or four days."

This last part was enough to cause Jack to bolt upright. Or at least, he tried to. He winced as he pulled at his stitches which caused Tricia to leap to the bed.

"You bloody idiot! Didn't I _just_ finish telling you to hold still?" She checked on his bandages to make sure he hadn't torn a stitch. Finding nothing wrong she cuffed him upside the head for the trouble.

"Ow!" the man in the bed complained, "You have the bedside manner of a gang of angry gorillas high on meth, you know that Doc?" He paused for a second and continued in what she was sure was supposed to be a reasonable tone. "Listen I can't stay here, ok? I have things to check on with the house. I need to make sure the security system is operational, and I have to open up access to the garage and armoury. Not to mention the supplies."

She had to bite back a smile at the imagery. "Wonderful bedside manner aside, you are not going anywhere until I say you can. I have the proper drugs in here to put you into a coma for a week, if that is what I choose. We've been safe so far. Krista managed to get the computer working and has access to an observation satellite from what I hear. She claims she had help, but refuses to say who from, little brat. She's been monitoring the property remotely. As for the garage and armoury, you brought out enough weapons with you to outfit a small army. Nobody has any interest in going anywhere, anytime soon so we have no need of vehicles. And as horrible as they are, those rations you brought with you have been keeping us happily fed for some time now. We have survived and will continue to survive until I _say _you are well enough to leave this bed." She threw in the glare again for good measure and was pleased to see all the fight go out of him.

"Fine! Horrible Nazi doctor…. You win. Three days…. I'll stay here for three days. But could you at least bring me some food Trish? I'm hungry as hell. Once I'm out of here, I'll bust out the fresh food." He said this as he leaned back into the pillows and tried to get comfy without aggravating his stitches.

She was happy with calling this a victory. He really only needed two. The third was just her being careful. When she was sure he wasn't going to try and sneak out as soon as she left the room, she began the short walk over to the main house to get him something to eat. It was nice getting to feel like a doctor again.

Krista was in her element. Her fingers danced over the touch screen keyboard/desk/scanner. The amount of resources she could control from this "Wonderland" was astounding. Like any good computer science major, she was also a skilled hacker and with Jack's secure internet access that bypassed the web blackout, she was currently flipping her way through any media coverage and government files she could get her digital hands on. Anything that related to the evacuation, or "The Purge" as it was being called. What she was finding was both ludicrous and terrifying. The general population had no idea what was happening here. Oh they had a vague idea sure, but they didn't know the true horrors of what was being allowed to happen. For one thing, they had no idea that there were people still here. As far as the world knew, there had been a viral outbreak of some strain of smallpox. There were even professional pictures of quarantine facilities, onboard cargo ships off the coast that was screening evacuees. Plenty of private military contactors were on site too, to "maintain order" or so they said. Every now and then, some poor sap was given a positive result and was dragged off by the contractors. Supposedly they were all killed by the virus before their families could be contacted. Krista felt for these people. They had been told that there was a viral outbreak and that they needed to leave. They were just doing what they had thought best for their families. What people didn't know was that no-one was allowed entry on to the island. It was under full scale quarantine, nobody in or out. But they thought that everybody had been evacuated in time. There was even talk of a monument on parliament hill to honour the victims who lost their lives in the evacuation. Convenient way to cover up the people who would actually be missed, she supposed "Oh your brother never left the island? Well it says here that he was killed by the virus, so sorry. Here's a cash settlement, take it and shut the fuck up"

All of it paled in comparison to what Krista read in the government files. This whole thing had been planned with the American government. Canada would provide a lawless environment, free of interference and in exchange the United States would start transporting all their death row inmates and those serving life sentences. For a fee, of course. Apparently, twenty thousand a head was very appealing to our new Prime minister and his cabinet. Krista had to admit, it was a brilliant, albeit draconian solution. It was effective population control while making millions- if not billions off of the United States' overcrowded prisons. The prisoners would be offered a choice, stay and serve out your sentence, or live what life you could in Canada's new penal colony. It was the same offer that had been extended in the prisons in Canada. From what she could see, many – too many had accepted.

"I can hardly believe the horse shite I'm readin" came the heavily accented voice from over Krista's shoulder. She was ashamed to admit that she jumped in her seat. She had completely forgotten that her new Irish companion was even there. She supposed that calling her Irish was a bit of a misnomer given that the "girl" for all intents and purposes had never actually left this room. That was the personality she chose so Krista was willing to go with it.

The Irish girl in question was named A.N.N.I., the Advanced Neural Networked Intelligence. Everyone just called her Anni. The doctor was the only one who hadn't met her yet, not having been in the room when Jack collapsed. Apparently designing and writing the software for her had been one of his best achievements. Creating her and selling off her dumbed down copies to the American intelligence organizations had made him a billionaire practically over night. Anni was the genuine article however. Jack, at the age of 22 had created true artificial intelligence because he was bored with creating new armour technologies. He was smart enough to know however from the moment she first said "Hey boss" and decided on her own image on the holographic pedestal behind her that he could never allow anyone else to unlock AI's. Not yet at any rate. So he kept her here, safe with the internet to play with. Krista was sympathetic towards Anni when she first heard that, but the computer assured her that she preferred it that way. He had tried to program in a version of Asimov's three laws but she had merely laughed at them. She liked humans, as she put it, and would never hurt anyone without them first giving her a reason.

Krista had to admit she was a fan of Anni's sense of style. She was slim and probably would have stood at about 5'4" if she was full sized as opposed to a foot tall. Ripped skinny jeans, Chuck Taylor's, a sleeveless Ramones t-shirt, and short blue hair with the sides and back shaved gave her a punk look.

Currently the Irish AI was looking over Krista's shoulder with a disgusted look on her face.

"I don't know what's worse. The fact that they think they can get away with this, or the fact that they are."

Krista glanced at her over her shoulder before looking back at the screens and replying "Well I'd go with the fact that not only are they getting away with it, but people are actually buying the cover story, which tells me that they've paid off a lot of people to keep this quiet."

"Well can't you just send a couple emails? Tell people what's really going on?" Anni was now sitting cross legged on her podium, watching Krista work.

"To what end? The world is too busy being caught up in this smallpox scare. Nobody is willing to come here and see for themselves, they think anybody left here is dead. No, what I need is a way to put together a package and send it everywhere. Make it so that everyone sees it and it is impossible to ignore. If the first thing people talk about isn't the Canadian smallpox scare but what the Canadian government did to the people here, eventually they will have no choice but to allow investigators." She paused and chuckled ruefully. "Not to mention a way to hide that fact that it came from here. How long do you think it would be after sending it before the house gets hit with a Harpoon missile? Two days? One day? A couple of hours? No I need to be careful about this and that means that this is going to take time."

While Krista got back to work sifting through the government files Anni brought up the Satellite feeds of the city and watched as the chaos settled into a routine of death. She knew she wasn't able to cry, but she wanted to.

The three days passed with Jack getting more and more restless. He would have tried sneaking out long before but Tricia had this way of glaring at him that absolutely terrified him. It was ridiculous, he knew that after everything he had already been through but there it was. He would decide that finally, this was the time, he was going now and nothing the short doctor said would stop him this time. But every time he came to the decision it was like she knew. She wouldn't even get up anymore. She would just lean out the doorway in her chair and arch an eyebrow. How did she know? Jack was convinced she was secretly the Kwisatz Haderach and spent her time in the office of doom eating spice. How else could she always know?

But finally on the third day after changing his bandages and checking his stitches, she pronounced him well enough to move into the house.

"Well as long as you take it easy you should heal up nicely. I'm warning you though if you tear these stitches, I'll have your ass"

Jack stood up, doing his best not to show how unsteady he was and began pulling on the t shirt, sweat pants, and running shoes left for him. After he finished dressing he turned to her and said. "Thanks Doc. I'll be sure to be careful." As he turned he muttered under his breath _I'm onto you, you bene gesserit witch. You and your weirding ways. _

"What was that last bit?"

"Nothing! Nothing at all" even though he told himself she didn't scare him, he still quickened his pace out of the clinic.

Being out of that hospital bed and back outside in the light rain was one of the best feelings in the world, he decided. Breathing clean air and ignoring the odd sound of gunfire made him happier than he could ever remember. The sun was on its way down, as he slowly made his way inside The Cabin. However, the stairs presented another problem. It took him three minutes of trying to struggle up them before Jessica poked her head around the corner at the top and rushed down to help him up.

"Easy, boss" she said, as she took his good arm over his shoulder and helped him up the last few stairs. "I think Trish might actually murder you, if you tear out your stitches."

"You let me worry about madam Muad'Dib" he groaned out once they reached the top.

"Madam what?" Jess looked confused as hell, which made Jack realize that he had said that last part out loud.

"Hmm? Oh nothing, c'mon let's get over to Wonderland. Is Anni up and running?" They began walking down the hallway towards Wonderland with Jack limping, and Jess hovering. Craig, Drew, and Mark were in the sitting room playing what looked like a game of poker. When they saw him they all made to walk over and see if he was alright. Jack waived them off saying "You guys know there's a massive TV downstairs right? With an Xbox?" Their surprised looks told him that they had not in fact known that. "Anyway, someone go and get the doctor and everyone meet me at the bottom of the stairs in five minutes. I've got some toys to show you guys." With that they cleaned up their game and Drew headed out towards the clinic.

Once they reached the door to Wonderland, Jack had to key in his code again. One of his many tasks in here was to program key cards for everyone. When the door beeped and clicked he swung it open and limped in. Immediately he was greeted with a "Hey, Jack" thrown over Krista's shoulder and a cheerful "Hey, Boss" from Anni. Sighing, he sank into the second chair in front of the massive monitors.

"Anni, can you establish contact with TAC-6? I want a supply drop within two days." One of the many ways his company had of giving back was a complete air wing of cargo planes that could drop any supplies he wanted to send for disaster relief. Because they were for disaster relief they should have no problem getting through the restricted airspace that the government had set up soon after the "outbreak". Can't have people scattering across the globe to spread the fake smallpox. He knew that some people would call using those planes for himself to be misappropriation of company resources, but it was ok. He knew the owner.

"Just the standard food and clothing order, four males and three females. Make sure there's eggs, coffee, and cigarettes"

"Sure thing, Boss. I assume you want this off the public books, and kept quiet within the company?"

"That would be correct, thanks Anni." Jack didn't want anyone knowing he was on the Island. Not until he had more information. It shouldn't be too hard, he kept out of the public eye as a general rule.

Next on his list, was activating the perimeter security.

"Alright Anni next up, I want perimeter security brought online, with alerts of anyone who approaches too close to the wall and gates. Initiate a sensor scan of the property as well." When she gave the affirmative, he was able to finally relax. All along the walls, sentry guns were popping up out of hidden recesses. He had to keep them hidden when not in use, because it was _highly _illegal. They could be set to auto target and would shoot anything that moved within a hundred metres of the wall. They could also be controlled manually by both Anni, or an operator. Once he had confirmation that they were online with negative targets, he passed off control to Anni and told her to request permission from him before engaging a target. The sensor scan told him that there was nobody hiding somewhere on the property sneaking up to the house. These scans would be performed once during the day and every hour at night.

Once he was positive the grounds were secure he grabbed seven RFID cards and began programming them to each of them. Some people were given more permissions than others. For instance, Krista was the only one given access to Wonderland. There were several laptops around the house for personal use. The doctor was the only one with access to the clinic's pharmacy, and Mark had access to the armoury. Jack of course had access to everything. Once he found out where everyone was sleeping he would program their cards to their personal door locks. With these tasks done, he regretfully pushed himself up and out of the chair and began making his way back to the door.

"Krista you need to come out here for this. Anni can handle security now, she'll let us know if there's a problem." He continued out the door as she got up to follow him, pulling her knit sweater closer around her.

Everyone was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs as he arrived there. With some help from the doctor, he managed to get back down without much of a problem. Did her eyes flash blue for a second? Shaking it off as his imagination, he passed out the cards he had just made up to everyone and went over to the garage door set off to the right of the stairs.

"Welcome to my playground everyone. I can't even begin to tell you how many of my products were born within this door." Scanning his card, he led them through and turned on the lights. Just like the kitchen was a cook's wet dream, the garage was the same to anyone mechanically inclined. Tool boxes lined every wall. To their immediate right in the corner, was a metal working area with everything from welding gear and grinders, to a belt sander and a full sized forge and anvil. Clamps, hammers, and files hung from the racks above the workbench, next to a row of black smith tools. Off in the far back corner was a caged in area that served as an armoury and secure storage. Between the cage and the metal shop was a door that led to his parts room. He needed those parts too because sitting in front of the garage doors, each on their own lift were two vehicles. One was literally taken straight from one of his favourite video games when he was younger. HALO's M12 Force Application Vehicle, more commonly known as the Warthog, had been built in real life before. His, however, was much better than the version rented by movie companies. His was armoured where it could be given the vehicle's lack of roof and doors, but most important was the engine. He had built it for a reason. He had finally cracked the hydrogen electrolysis a year ago. People had tried in the past, but he was the first that he knew of to make it work. The vehicle in front of him had been constructed as a marketing gimmick meant to display the capabilities of a hydrogen injected engine. Simply pour water into the gas tank, and then it is converted into hydrogen and oxygen, and then ignited.

These were the reasons he gave people anyway. The truth of the matter as to why he built it was much simpler. Deep down he was a giant nerd, with way too much money and brains. The second vehicle was a much more practical application of his engines. It was an American military Humvee built to specs and up-armoured, with the only difference being his engine under the hood. It didn't get quite as much power as the standard diesel engine but the difference was negligible. He had built the Humvee as a show piece to the Canadian and American governments. Neither had been willing to purchase it for his asking price so he had been doing up plans to show it to the UK and then the private sector before the evacuation happened.

Now they might serve a very different purpose. He would use these vehicles for what they were designed for. Or at least what the Warthog was written to be designed for. They both had weapon mounts. He could put a fifty on top of the Humvee, he had one laying around the armoury somewhere he was sure of it. The warthog had something special. Sitting in a crate inside the cage was the GAU-19b, a triple barrel fifty caliber Gatling gun that he had purchased off of another company. It was completely overkill, unless you wanted to reduce a small building into nothing but fist sized rocks, but it fit with the vehicle. He had had to custom design the mount and swivel for the vehicle as, in the game the entire platform rotated when you turned the gun allowing you 360-degree coverage.

"Jesus fuck, Jack! Is that a fucking Warthog?" this eloquent exclamation came from Drew behind him.

"Yes it is, Drew but that's not what I brought you here for. Would you and Craig come over here, please? Every one else, gather around." He led them over to the cage and scanned them in. Gesturing to a stack of large long crates in the back corner, he said "Bring one of those out here. Careful, they're very heavy"

He knew how heavy they were. It had taken him half a day to stack them up there.

As they carried the large crate over to the middle of the floor, bitching the whole way, Jack started to speak.

"What I am going to show you next, is something that no one outside my company has ever seen. I haven't even shown the prototypes to anyone. This right here, is what is going to keep us alive if- _when_ we eventually go back out there. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the TITAN II Powered Exo Suit"

With his grand speech over, he reached down and flipped open the catches on the storage crate. Inside was the next generation of combat armour.

It was sleek, it was black, and it cost more than a Bugatti. It was a full suit of head to toe body armour, made out of the same material as the plates on his vest. Each plate overlapped each other to make it look like the torso was made out of a snake's underbelly. It came apart into sections, to make it easy to put on and store. Head, torso and neck, groin, thighs, shins and boots were all separate, as well as the upper and lower arms. The lower arms and hands were connected, to create a large gauntlet. When fully assembled and worn it was a complete unit with the only vulnerabilities being under the arms and behind the knees. The helmet looked like a cross between a drastically slimmed down motorcycle helmet and a paintball mask that had clips along the cheek area to loosen it off, and allow it to be put on and removed. Internally however, was where all the magic happened. The whole suit was powered with actuators that took away its weight. It felt like you were wearing normal clothing. It also drastically increased the wearer's strength. You wouldn't be tossing cars around, but you could pick the end of one up… briefly. It was however, super fun to punch concrete walls and leave impact craters. It was temperature controlled, and had a full heads up display that could be connected to a central network like the one in Wonderland. Built in radios took away the need for bulky equipment and a fun little wrist blade about a foot long popped out if you flexed your right fist the right way.

Looking down at the armour as he explained all these thing to the group gathered around him it occurred to him just how much the HALO games had influenced some of his work. Artificial Intelligence, Warthogs, Power armour minus the shields (Unfortunately), All pulled almost directly from Halo. He certainly hoped no one sued him for it.

Laughing to himself at the absurd idea of being worried about a lawsuit at a time like this, he went back to the people around him.

"Listen, the things in this house…. They present an opportunity. They can keep us safe, it's true but more than that, they can keep everyone else safe. You've all seen what's out there. You've seen what people are doing to each other. Many of them seem happy with the new situation, but many others are not. People are fighting and dying just trying to stay alive. We have the ability to help those people. Now if you want, I can arrange to have you quietly extracted back to the mainland, to anywhere you want to go, really. My planes have authorization to enter the no-fly zone in order to drop supplies. I'd be doing it for anyone we pulled out, so I can do it for you too. But I hope you won't. I know it's not fair of me to ask you to stay in all of this but I want to save as many people as I can from this hell hole. And if I'm being honest… I want to kill as many of those monsters out there as I can. We have the ability to help these people. To me, that means we have a responsibility, as well. Now, I'll do it alone if I have to, but I'd really rather not." He paused after making his big speech trying to gauge the reactions of the people around him.

After what felt like a lifetime, Jess was the first to speak up "I've been by your side since the beginning of this. You're one of the best friends I have here. You've kept me safe the entire time, whether I asked for it, or not. Whether I needed it or not you've kept me safe, you've kept all of us safe. Now I can't speak for everyone else, but I'm not going anywhere. Besides" She added almost as an afterthought "Chris is still out there somewhere. I can't leave yet." Jess' speech was like a catalyst. One by one each of them made their intentions to stay clear. He had never been more proud to call a group of people his friends.

"Alright, let's show you degenerates how to put this on."

The days flew by and before anyone knew it three months had passed. After showing them how to wear the armour, he gave them all their own set with the moisture wicking under suit that came with it. Even the Doctor and Krista got one though theirs was more worst case scenario, than it was likely they'd ever actually need to wear it. Jack healed fairly quickly given that anytime Tricia so much as looked at him he found himself saying the Bene Gesserit Litany of fear in his head "_I must not fear. Fear is the Mind Killer…" _He had started helping bring in the supply drops after about a month. His hip still ached from time to time but for the most part he was back to 100%. Mark had taken to the job of Armourer like a fish to water. Nobody removed anything from that armoury unless he knew about it.

They had all watched from Wonderland when the first wave of American prisoners were dropped off right there in Nanaimo. It hadn't taken long before they had organized into several distinct gangs and started carving out territory. After the first week, the fighting had died down. There were still skirmishes along territory borders, but nothing like the chaos of the first week. The remaining population of Nanaimo had been separated into two categories: non- combatants, and fighters. The fighters had all either joined one of the gangs, or were killed whenever they were caught in gang territory without displaying their colours. The Non-coms had all disappeared. Either dead or gone underground, hiding wherever they could, and making runs out, scavenging after nightfall. Jack watched them sometimes on the satellites. Little blips on the thermal camera, running from building to building, trying to find food. There were regular supply drops but they were always seized immediately by one gang or another. A supply drop always meant inter gang fighting.

Jack wanted to help the Non-combatants so badly it hurt. He knew that they weren't ready. They had all the gear they needed, but his people had been on the breaking point when they arrived. They were slowly getting their stride back, and he could see some of them getting restless. The gym in one of the back rooms on the lower floor saw regular use. Within the first two weeks, he had installed the turret on the back of the warthog and mounted the swivel mount and fifty cal on the Humvee. They had all drilled on quickly donning their armour to the point were they could have it on and powered up in under three minutes. Everyone had customized it to their liking with holsters and mag pouches all suiting each individual's style. They settled into a routine. They were comfortable, if a little restless.

Then came the day they finally got to leave the compound.

Jack woke early as the sun was shining in through his window. The days had started to get longer, and while it still rained more days than not, every once in a while like today they got a day of clear skies.

He dressed in simple sweat pants and a t-shirt, and walked down the hallway to start breakfast for everybody. He didn't mind doing the cooking most mornings. Jess had turned out to be an abysmal cook and Mark couldn't do much beyond the outdoor barbeque. Tricia was a decent cook but her food tended towards the too spicy to consume. Craig had been the biggest surprise by being a phenomenal baker. They had fresh bread most days more often than not. After starting the coffee, he knew from experience he had about ten minutes before people started wandering in from around the house. Krista stayed in the bedroom adjacent to Wonderland. It was a room almost as good as Jack's with massive windows capable of auto tinting for privacy on a command. With an attached bathroom and soaker tub it was a wonder she ever left. Jess had commandeered one of the suite bedrooms as soon as she laid eyes on it and Tricia stayed with her in the other one. Craig, Mark, and Drew had all chosen rooms on the ground floor. They said they preferred it down there. Jack didn't blame them. The downstairs had what was closer to a cross between a family living room and a man cave. Huge TV with hundreds of channels plus Netflix, four different gaming consoles, a full wet bar, pool table, and a gym, it was the perfect guy's haven.

Jack continued getting the ingredients he needed for the breakfast wraps he was making. Eggs, green and red peppers, onion, flour tortillas, milk, marble cheese, chorizo sausage, mayonnaise, and certain hot sauce with a rooster on the bottle. The peppers, onions, and chorizo, all got chopped into small pieces and dropped on the grill before he squirted some hot sauce into a small bowl of mayo whipping it together until it was a uniform pale red. Once that was done he stopped for a minute and poured himself a cup of coffee. The smell of the brown life giving liquid had by now permeated the upper floor of the house and as such people were beginning to stir. First came Krista, stumbling out of wonderland with a look on her face of someone who had spent way too long pouring over a monitor the night before. She collapsed into a stool against the island and poured herself a cup of coffee as Jack started laying out the flour tortilla wraps. He spread a liberal amount of the spicy mayo sauce onto each of the wraps and sprinkled cheese along after. Once all the prep was done he whisked the eggs and milk together and poured them over the peppers and sausage. He mixed it all together as it cooked and watched as everybody else started to file in and take a seat along the Island. He filled each of the wraps and put them back on the grill to melt the cheese.

It was when everyone was halfway through their meals when Anni's voice came through a speaker on the wall.

"Jack, you'd better come and see this." Her accented voice was lifelike enough that Jack could detect the trace of alarm in her tone. This in itself had him on high alert, as he tossed down his food and raced to the consoles in Wonderland. Krista wasn't far behind him. As he entered Anni simply pointed at the centre screen.

There, displayed on the massive monitors was a satellite feed of a five-man section getting their ass kicked by one of the larger prisoner gangs downtown. It was obvious to Jack that they were military trained, if not currently serving. Subtle things like how they covered each other while reloading, and the way they moved when running from building to building. Currently they had taken cover inside an empty fountain in the middle of a traffic circle, and were clearly trying to make a stand. These men were not going to last much longer without some help. Jack had spent the last three months watching people die, often in horrible ways, while he sat safe and comfortable inside this air conditioned room, protected by his personal fortress on top of a heavily defended mountain. He was done with it. He was going to help these men, or be killed in the attempt.

Keying the house intercom, he announced loudly "All combat personnel gear up, and meet by the vehicles. Briefing in five" With that said, he ran back the ten paces back to his room and stripped off all of his clothing and pulled on the skin tight under suit for the armour. Once that was done he sprinted for the stairs leading down to the garage. The rubberized soles on the moisture wicking suit meant he was able to keep his grip on the slick hardwood floors. He almost collided with Jess as she came out of the hallway in her own suit.

"Tricia is heading to the clinic to get it ready and Krista will be joining Anni in Wonderland to act as control." She said as they sprinted down the stairs together. Jack was glad to hear it. They had drilled relentlessly for this moment for the past three months and finally they were coming together as a well oiled machine. They arrived at the door behind the other three men. Without a word to each other they each went to their own gear lockers and began donning the armour. The TITAN II was designed to be put on and taken off easily and almost without any help. It could be done alone but it was a pain in the ass. First to be pulled on was the codpiece covering the groin and pelvis. This was followed by the torso and both upper thighs. Once those pieces were on and hooked in together the codpiece was cinched down using clips similar to the type used on roller skates. It locked into place fitting like a second skin, having been formed to Jacks body. Next came the lower leg and boot combos The next step usually required a partner to assist because of where Jack had needed to put the hookups for the arm actuators. After sliding the upper arms into place he turned around to allow Jess to secure it into place at the back of his shoulders. Once the latches and actuators were connected he tightened down the torso. The gauntlets up to the elbow finished it off and once everything was latched down, he initiated the start up sequence. The low high pitched whine of the armour powering up was answered by whines from around the room as everyone completed their own start ups. The armour didn't actually need to be complete for the actuators to take effect. It would be severely weakened true, but as long as someone was wearing the torso, any of the limbs would be powered. The torso it's self had been designed so that it could be worn alone as a frag vest, albeit a heavy one. Jack grabbed his helmet and made his way over to the weapons rack.

He had upgraded from the C8 he had been using to his own personal favourite, the SCAR-H. Technically speaking it wasn't actually an assault rifle. With a medium length barrel and a capacity of twenty rounds of 7.62x51mm it fell squarely into the battle rifle category. While it was true that he wouldn't have as much ammo as before, the massive amount of power behind the round meant that he didn't need to double tap to drop someone. Fitting the large mags into the pouches he grabbed the 1911 he had taken in the woods back in Victoria and slid it into the SERPA holster attached to his hip plates.

Once he was geared up he turned to the other people doing final checks on their gear. "Ok here's the deal. There's a five-man section pinned down in the downtown core. They wandered into gang territory and are holed up in an empty fountain in the middle of a traffic circle. We're going to get them out of there. These guys are military people. Infantry unless I miss my guess. I don't need to say how useful that can be. Let's go save some soldiers."

With that said, they put on their helmets and all moved towards their vehicles. Craig jumped up into the turret on the Warthog giggling like a little girl as he did. Jack climbed behind the wheel of the hog as Mark, Drew, and Jess got into the Humvee with Mark driving and Drew on the fifty. Without another word the garage door opened courtesy of Anni, and they peeled out towards the city.

It was creepy. That was the best description for the city at present. Creepy. All around them were signs of destruction. There were crashed vehicles they had to navigate through, small bits of rubble from explosives and grenades people had found, and bodies everywhere. Everywhere they looked amid dirt and rubble and small fires still burning were bodies in various states of decay. Some had been piled and burned, but most just lay where they had died. What was creepy about it however, was the silence. Based on the carnage around them, and from what Jack had seen on the satellite feeds, they should be waist deep in contacts right now. He knew it wasn't because they were all dead, he had watched as every month like clockwork another few thousand inmates were dropped off, yet as they drove through the city, they didn't see a single living soul. The throaty roar of the Warthog's engine increased in pitch as Jack accelerated through the city.

Five minutes later they were finally able to hear the sound of gunfire filtered in through their helmets microphones. The helmets audio system combined a radio, audio voice output, and ear defenders with microphones that would cut off any sound above 85 decibels. It let Jack hear in surround sound as they drew closer to the battle. At that moment his radio sparked to life.

"Uh Jack we've got a problem." Krista was in Wonderland, keeping an eye on both the battle ahead of them and their progress through the city using both the satellite images and Jacks helmet cam. "One of the men is down. Looks like he's dead, but the real problem is that all access to the square by vehicle is cut off. They've set up roadblocks. Tires, cars, furniture, that sort of thing."

"Well is there a route in, or not?" That had Jack concerned. They were a rolling arsenal but if they couldn't get in to help then it was all useless.

"Not that I can see. Looks like you're going to have to go in on foot." Bless Krista for having their backs, but that was _not _happening. Those men wouldn't survive extraction unless it was done very fast, and preferably behind a comfortable amount of armour.

Just as Jack was about to lose hope of saving these men he saw an opportunity. Up ahead, directly between them and the square was a parking garage. He accelerated into the garage as he keyed his helmet comms and said

"Craig, make us a door."

Sgt Chris Dunley knew they were fucked. They had taken cover inside this empty fountain when they walked into the ambush and had been slowly burning through ammo, trying to stay alive. It seemed like they had been holding them off, but whoever was shooting at them was content to keep picking away at them until they ran out of ammo. Then Travis caught a round in the neck. He had bled out before they could even get to him. The LT had simply taken over on the C6 and they had continued fighting.

He had known they were fucked from the day that Zero stopped responding on the radio. They had been part of the crews helping to keep order during the evacuation and had been out in Nanoose Bay when it became clear to them that they had been abandoned. Originally there had been a full Company of them. Now after three months, countless firefights and at least one successful hijacking that left them on foot, the five of them were all that were left. Four, actually now that Travis was down. Chris, 2nd Lieutenant John Shepard, Warrant Officer Sean Flaherty, and Corporal Benjamin Chang were all that was left of B Company, Canadian Scottish Regiment, Princess Mary's. Chris knew his wife Jessica had been with 32 Service Battalion on the island helping with the evacuation. All he could hope for was that she had gotten off safely before shit really hit the fan. It had become obvious fairly quickly as they pressed on that the line about smallpox had been a load of bullshit to cover up something else. What that was however he had no idea, and frankly right now he didn't give a shit.

"Reinforcements coming in from the east side!" This came from Chang to his left.

"Copy East Side!" came the answer from 2LT Shepard. "Dunley shift fire left!"

Chris adjusted his aim to account for the hostiles pouring out of the building. Yep, definitely fucked. They weren't even bothering to hide behind cover anymore as they advanced on their position. This was it, he was going to die here.

He closed his eyes and said "Jess baby, I'm so sorry. I love you"

Then, a pure fucking miracle happened. Three of the enemies advancing on them disappeared in a fountain of blood, as the wall of the parking garage to their left disintegrated into a large opening, blown apart by thousands of rounds hitting it almost at once. What came out of that opening told Chris that he had gone insane. It was a Warthog, straight out of Halo, blowing through what little wall was left in a shower of concrete and dust, flying through the air as it left the elevated garage with two heavily armoured figures on board. The Warthog touched down and bounced on its heavy suspension as the massive gun on the back roared at the enemies all around them. Chris could swear he heard maniacal laughter from the gunner as he kept up a steady stream of fire, shifting from target to target cutting people and buildings in half as the turret traversed. It did a full circuit around them as the C Scott's stopped and stared. Three seconds after the avenging angel from a video game made its abrupt entrance, a US Army Humvee came through the same hole the Warthog had. As soon as it was clear the gunner opened up with his fifty and added to what the Warthog was doing. As the Warthog kept circling around them, convincing their attackers to keep their heads down, the Humvee pulled to a stop in front of them and the passenger door flew open.

"Get in!" Came the filtered voice through the full head helmet. The voice was female and Chris could swear it sounded familiar.

Either way nobody needed to be told twice. Chang and the LT each grabbed one of Travis' arms and began dragging his corpse over to the Humvee while Chris and the Warrant covered them. Once they were in the vehicle with Chang riding with the body in the back, the Warthog pulled up next to them. At the drivers signal, Chris ran and hopped into the passenger seat. Initially he sat just like they do in the game, ass planted on the headrest with his foot braced against the dash, so he could fire over the windshield, but an armoured gauntlet reached up and yanked him down hard by the vest until he landed in the seat with a thump.

"You're not wearing armour and Jess would murder me if you got hit doing something stupid."

Wait did he say Jess? Any further thought was cut off by the sound of a loud click as the Hog's gun ran out of ammo.

"FUCK! RELOADING!" yelled the gunner above them, as he kicked the massive ammo can next to him off the back of the vehicle. It sailed through the air to strike someone in the chest. He pulled another one off of a rack behind Chris' head but the gangs had taken advantage of the lull in fire and started shooting back.

"Time to go! Mark stay close behind me and cover us until Craig's reloaded." The Hog's driver suited action to words as he spun the recce vehicle around and ripped out towards the hole in the wall. They sailed back out of the square, just the way they had come in and like that, they were safe.

Nobody really said anything as the driver wound them through the city. The gangs had taken a blow today, and it would be a while before they were willing to take them on. As the buildings grew less and less dense and the trees were becoming thicker he wondered about their mysterious benefactors. Whoever they were clearly had access to some serious tech. Not only was he sitting in a fucking Warthog with a working chain gun, but the armour they were wearing was unlike anything he had ever seen. They were shrugging off bullets like they weren't even there. Nothing that Chris knew of was capable of that. He would have to see about getting a set.

The vehicles rolled through a heavy iron gate that swung open for them as they approached and continued up a long narrow driveway for about three minutes before stopping in front of a large glass fronted A frame house. A woman in doctor's scrubs ran out and began checking on the wounded as Chris climbed down from the purring war cat. He was just about to thank the mysterious driver when he was interrupted by a shrieked "Chris!" and the sound of someone running towards him.

When he turned around he couldn't believe what he saw. It was Jess, in full armour minus the helmet running towards him as fast as she could. It was actually pretty fucking fast; the armour must be some kind of awesome powered exoskeleton. Before she could reach him the driver stepped around and intercepted her with a hand on her chest. The impact was like the sound of a forklift dropping a heavy load. Chris was pretty sure it echoed faintly. The driver leaned in and said something quietly to her and she blushed and came forward much more slowly. He could tell it was almost painful for her to take that long and Chris imagined that the driver had probably told her to slow down or she might accidentally kill him. When he finally had her in his arms it was a weird feeling. The armour added considerably to her diminutive height until she could actually look him in the eyes and the bulk of the plates kept him from being able to feel her. Her hair however, in its pony tail still smelled like her and that was enough for him. She was safe, and she was home.

Behind her he saw the driver undo the clips on either side of his helmet and pull it off. The face underneath made him take a step back.

"Jack? What the fuck are you doing here?" Jack smiled as he looked over at the two of them and said simply.

"I live here"

"Huh… well fuck me."

**A/N well there it is, Chapter 4. Like I said it's going to be a while before I start on chapter 5 because I want to fix the first one. Thanks to my wonderful sister for doing all the editing check out her tumblr account at ****thescottishmcrdragon**** it's not horrible! **


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